Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

A/N: This story was just a little something I thought up in the process of writing The Curse. I was going to focus on that one, but the amount of hits the previous chapter got and the wonderful reviews sent to me inspired me to write it from Hermione's pov. I hope you guys enjoy it & when you get the chance, check out The Curse—it's not a DMHG fic (though they are both in it—with a focus on Draco…), but I have a feeling someone out there'll be happy with it. Happy Thanksgiving!

Two Can Play Hermione's POV

The sound of Harry's concerned voice brought Hermione back from her mind wandering, something she found herself doing a lot of lately. 'That, and Malfoy,' she thought, a small smile finding its way onto her face.

"Sorry," she apologized, turning her attention to her green-eyed friend. "Must have zoned out again."

"Got something on your mind then?" he asked, studying her as he waited for Ron to make his move on the chessboard.

She met his eyes for a moment, eye contact breaking only when Ron announced, "Bishop to E4", signaling Harry's turn to move. She took a moment to look at her best friends as they sat immersed in their game. Harry's brow was furrowed in concentration; his whole body completely still as sparkling green eyes darted across the board while he calculated his next move. Strong hands were clasped together underneath a firm chin. At just about 5'11", Harry Potter easily towered over Hermione's small, 5'5" frame—and that wasn't counting his unruly, jet-black hair, always ruffled and out of place. Ron, though more slender in appearance, was a match in Harry's strength—no doubt thanks to the years of Quidditch training and wrestling with his older brothers. His hair, ever-fiery, was a bit more tamed than Harry's, and framed a still-freckled face and beautiful blue eyes. He was the tallest of the trio at just about 6'11", and—Harry would agree—the loudest, though it wasn't always a bad thing. In fact, there were times when she admired the youngest Weasley brother for the way he wore his heart on his sleeve. As of late, she was getting tired of hidden emotions…but she pushed that thought away, knowing exactly who it would lead to.

Her observation of Harry and Ron led to a few surprising conclusions. One, that two of the most attractive boys at Hogwarts were sitting in front of her. Two, that this wasn't and couldn't have been an overnight development, and three: they were her best friends, and she could only ever see them that way. True, she had heard the castle gossip, and the hushed confessions of younger girls who fancied the male members of the Golden Trio, but until that very second, she couldn't understand why. It was just Harry and Ron.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice called to her again, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I take it that's a 'yes' to my question then?" At her look of confusion, he added, "About whether or not something's on you mind?"

"Oh! I was just noticing how much you two have grown up," she answered, a teasing lilt to her voice. "I can't believe I'm just now seeing it."

"Hey—we're not the only ones," Ron countered, raising a brow. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"He's got a point, you know," Harry agreed as she blushed lightly. "And we see you so rarely nowadays it's no wonder you haven't noticed."

"Yeah, and when you are with us, you're mind's off somewhere else. Honestly, 'Mione—we go to school in an enchanted castle…we live in a magical world…what could you possibly daydream about?" Ron added.

'Lots of things' she thought to herself as memories of last week flooded unwittingly into her mind.

Flashback

"Malfoy, we've already checked the North Tower," Hermione reminded, as he began walking faster in the opposite direction of their common room. It was already past midnight, and although they had a holiday the following day in respect of some important witch or other, she still wanted to get to bed as early as possible. If only she could say the same for the dozens of couples she and Malfoy caught that night scattered throughout the castle.

"Exactly," he replied. She couldn't see his face, but the smirk was evident in his voice—as were his plans for the rest of the night.

"Isn't this something we could do in the privacy of our own common room?" she asked, keeping her voice low, just in case someone was hidden in the shadows. The sudden knowledge of what he had in mind for them that night brought with it a fresh longing for closed walls where no one could see. She knew too well what would happen if someone did spy them together…

"That's the problem—we've done it everywhere we can in the privacy of our own bloody common room," he whispered back, his emphasis on that one word alluding to her refusal to let him into her own bed. "My room, the bathtub, the shower stall, the floor of the bathroom, the kitchen table, the stovetop, in front of the fireplace—the floor and both couches—my balcony…"

"Alright!" she cut him off, knowing full well the list of places went on. "But it's not like you had a problem with it before—and what if someone catches us?" She stopped as they reached their destination, a bit out of breath from the brisk walk up. Her brow furrowed as he opened the nearest door, only to close it, grab her wrist and continue walking. "What was that for?"

"I didn't have a problem with it before, and I don't now…I just felt like a change of scenery. Besides, Granger—what's some fun without a little risk?" he turned to wink at her, as she rolled her eyes.

"That still doesn't answer my last question," she prodded as they stopped once again.

"What?"

"Why did you leave that last room? It looked just like this one…" she asked as he jerked his head, motioning for her to enter.

She stepped inside, still waiting for his answer, when his lips met hers in a kiss, making her forget momentarily what she had asked not tow seconds before. He had taken her so quickly that she barely registered his mumbled confession, the words 'late night fuck' and 'Pansy' drifting about her ears.

Something akin to anger bubbled in Hermione's chest and she attacked Malfoy's lips with heightened passion, not realizing her actions were directly related to what she didn't know she heard. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his hips and she felt him smirk through their kiss right as her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew: this was one night she wouldn't forget anytime soon.

End Flashback

"Hermione!" Ron and Harry called out together, effectively bringing Hermione back from her memories.

"Sorry," she apologized once more, as Ginny Weasley walked into the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey Hermione—you'll never guess what I heard!" the youngest female Weasley greeted as the boys chuckled at Hermione's lack of focus.

"I dunno, Gin, what?"

"Malfoy and Pansy are back together. At least—for tonight's dinner anyway," she revealed, sitting on the floor between Harry and Hermione.

"Ugh—why would any sane person care about those two?" Ron wondered, disgust evident in his voice.

"Yeah, really—it's Malfoy and Parkinson…" Harry agreed.

"So they're on again, are they?" Hermione replied, her voice nonchalant in an attempt to appear wholly uninterested—a trick she learned from all those months with the Ferret.

"Go see for yourself, it's disgusting!" Ginny prodded, as Harry helped her up on the couch.

Hermione stood, not really knowing why. Part of her desperately wanted to follow Ginny's lead, but another part of her was convinced she didn't care. It was part of their 'deal' after all: she wasn't supposed to care. 'If I'm not supposed to care, then neither is he.'

She knew what he was doing. It was something he had done countless times in the past month or two, using Pansy to irk her mercilessly. In a rare conversation between the two Heads, she had unintentionally revealed her complete loathing for the Slytherin Slut and he had the gall to ask if she was jealousy that made her hate Parkinson so. Since then, he had flaunted Pansy in her face whenever he saw fit to raise the ire in her. 'Well, Malfoy—two can play this game'

"Since I'm hungry…" she shrugged, as Ron called out 'checkmate' once again. "Fancy a bite to celebrate your victory, Ron?" Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Ginny? Harry?"

"Oh, I couldn't—I just came from dinner and I'm stuffed," Ginny declined with a shake of her head.

"Yeah—I've got a Transfiguration essay to finish," Harry added.

"Guess it's just us then, Hermione," Ron shrugged, standing up to join his female friend.

"Wait! I just remembered!" Ginny called out at her brother's acceptance to Hermione's invitation. "Lavender Brown told a load of people today that you to were an item or something…if you show up together…" The fact that the new information only served to make Ron and Hermione laugh spoke volumes about the true relationship between them. They were friends, nothing more.

"Well then, let's give them something to talk about," Hermione winked at Ron who laughed even more in response.

"Alright, let's."

'This couldn't be more perfect,' Hermione thought to herself. 'I'll show him jealousy'. A smirk that rivaled Malfoy's own crept to her face. He'd be sorry he ever accused her of being jealous in the first place…and she'd get to pay him back for whatever he did to annoy her last week.

Together, Ron and Hermione strode into the Great Hall, his arm around her shoulders, hers about his waist, laughing. The instant she walked in, she felt a prickling behind her neck—Malfoy had seen. 'Good' she thought. 'You don't need me? Well, I don't need you either.'

Throughout dinner, she and Ron played the roles of a couple in love; she, brushing hair out of his eyes as he kept his hand atop hers on the table. Occasionally, her eyes would involuntarily flicker over to the Slytherin table, catching sight of Malfoy and Pansy practically fucking one another with their eyes. 'Ginny was right: it is rather disgusting'

"I'm feeling a bit peaky, Ron—I think I'll turn in for the night. Thanks for the company." She kissed him on the cheek for good measure, and then started the long walk to the Head's dormitories, Draco Malfoy on her brain.

It wasn't as though she liked him. On the contrary—she still hated him. And he still hated her. But, coming into her 7th year at Hogwarts gave Hermione the unexplainable urge to do something different…something…crazy. So, when the opportunity presented itself in the form of a very hot Draco Malfoy, who was she to resist? At an intimidating 6'2", with well-toned muscles, a steely-silver stare and those platinum locks, he was every bit the Slytherin Sex God everyone spoke of—in looks and skills—as Hermione experienced first hand.

Upon entering the common room, she was a bit shocked to hear his voice address her from his spot beside the fire. She hadn't even seen him leave the Great Hall. Remembering she was supposed to be angry with him, she hid her expressing, and began to head to her room, suppressing the urge to run over and kiss him.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" he asked. She almost laughed—he sounded as though he just asked her what the weather would be like the next day.

"I'm on my way up, Malfoy. It's been a long day and I'm rather tired, so if you'll excuse me…" she answered, keeping her voice just as cool. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he was jealous…

"That's not what I meant. What were you doing with Weasel?" Ah, so he was jealous. 'Serves him right, after using my dislike for Parkinson against me so many times'

"If you mean Ron—he's my friend. I'd like to think I can spend time with my friends every so often, Malfoy," she spat back, displaying anger to hide her amusement. Draco Malfoy was jealous of Ron Weasley?

"And do you act that way with all your friends?" The emotion in his voice surprised her. What right did he have to be angry?

"Excuse me? Need I remind you that we have done some pretty crazy things, and I'd hardly call us 'friends'…Besides, what's it to you, anyway?" she asked, growing slightly irritated. Then, he did something she wasn't expecting in the least. He smirked.

"You call what we've done 'crazy'?" That damn Malfoy smirk. Amusement and firelight danced in his eyes as he began to talk towards her. She crossed her arms in defense.

"Yeah, well, what else would I call it?"

"Crazy. Hot. Wild. Sexy…" Each word brought him a step closer, before he was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She struggled to keep her breathing even as he lowered his lips to her neck.

"Wet. Passionate. Lustful. Sweaty. Satisfying." A kiss between each word sent her senses reeling, the feel of his lips on her neck sending bolts of pleasure to her very core as her mind went hazy with lust. Hadn't they been arguing a minute ago? What was that about again?...Oh yes…

"Malfoy, I can hang around whomever I wish." Her throat felt tight and though she meant to tell him in a firm, commanding tone, all that came out was a whisper. But Merlin, if that tongue wasn't magic…

"Whatever you want," he chuckled, the vibrations from his voice becoming the earthquake that shattered already breaking walls of her resolve.

"Damn right" she mumbled before meeting his lips with her own. Why had she waited a week to do this again?

Like a seasoned pro, her tongue darted from her lips, seeking refuge in his mouth, which he eagerly gave. She barely noticed him throw not one, but two silencing spells at the door. She smirked through the kiss, knowing exactly what those silencing spells meant. It was going to be a long night.