Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. And there's no point in suing b/c I really don't own too
much of anything.

Sometimes Hate Is a Good Thing

by Hermione-G-Weasley
 
 

Chapter 2
Potions Class
 

"I swear, if Snape says one thing to piss me off, I'm walking out." Ron was giving his usual
speech, threatening to curse Snape out and walk out of the dungeons in protest. However,
he had been giving this same speech nearly every morning for three years, and he had yet to
leave Potions early despite the many things that Snape had said to piss them all off.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked ahead of Ron and Harry a bit. They descended
the stairs to find the hallway outside of the classroom crowded, as Snape had not made his
appearance and unlocked the door yet. All of the Slytherins and Gryffindors were waiting
in the small hallway engrossed in their own little conversations.

Hermione turned to see her two best friends abandon her and go join Seamus Finnigan
and Dean Thomas. For a moment, she huffed up, but then realized she didn't mind the few
minutes she could have to herself. She set her bag down on the ground and bent down to
rummage through it. She was interrupted seconds later by Ron who had returned to her
side nearly immediately.

"Hermione," he hissed in what was a not-so-quiet whisper, "you can see right up your skirt
when you're squatting like that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron for the thousandth time that morning and turned her head
to peer up at him. "So, stop looking."

Ron blushed seven shades of red at this comment and hurriedly tried to find a reply. "I.. I
wasn't... I can't help but look when you're showing everything God gave you!" he finally
finished exasperatedly.

Hermione grinned as she stood back up. "Really, Ron, I can't tell you how flattered I am."
Then she did something completely out of character for her. She grabbed his face in both
of her hands and turned his body so that he was backed against the stone wall and then she
proceeded to lean in as closely as she could and whispered quietly into his ear. "Keep
looking, and maybe sometime you'll get to touch."

She was teasing him, not being in the least bit serious. Still, he turned a red that was three
shades darker than his flaming scarlet hair. Hermione wondered if the things she had heard
from various people about Ron holding a secret crush for her were true. No, she decided;
that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. She laughed and leaned back, her eyes
flashing teasingly at him.

"I was only kidding, Ron!"

"Making your boyfriend blush in public, are you? How terribly scandalous of you, Granger."

The slow drawl that Hermione had come to hate through the years met her ears and made
her turn her attention away from the blushing red-head in front of her.

Malfoy.

"And how terribly pitiful it is that you have no one to make you blush in public," she replied
in the same sarcastic tone he had used on her.

Malfoy smirked at her. "Quite the quick tongue you've acquired there, Granger. Tell me,
I know that you learned all other techniques involving the tongue from Weasley. Is this
particular wit included in that?"

Hermione felt herself blush at the suggestion, but she refused to let him have the satisfaction
of shutting her up. "I know that you're jealous, being so uninformed in the matters of the
tongue as you are, really, Malfoy, I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

He looked at her strangely, and Hermione cursed herself for noticing how his gray-blue
eyes were piercing into her own in such a way that was making her forget that she hated
him so much.

"Very witty, Granger," he sneered evilly at her. "I'm quite impressed."

Hermione glared at him. "Excuse me, but I have to prepare for class." She pushed past
him, abandoning Harry and Ron to return to her bag which was still lying on the floor.
She bent down to pick it up and, remembering what Ron had said, stayed in the squatting
position long enough to make sure that every guy in the hallway got a good look. She
enjoyed the knowledge that so many guys were enjoying the view and smiled to herself
as she saw several of them staring out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy was staring at her, too.

Good. She wanted him to stare. She wanted him to be tortured with the same thoughts that
she was because it wasn't fair that she was the only one suffering from these ludicrous fantasies.
Taking as much time as she possibly could to gather her books, she packed them away into
her bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder. Finally, she stood up slowly, but she made sure to
stand up in such a way that her backside was facing directly toward the wall where Malfoy
was still standing. She made sure that he had no choice but to look.

And then she turned around to smirk at him innocently.

Yes, she was pleased with the look of uneasiness that was covering his face. She noticed
that the same look was covering the faces of Ron, Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and the
rest of the Slytherin boys as well. But she didn't care about them. She only cared that the
same blue-gray eyes that had watched her undress the night before in her dreams were
now attached to her ass.

Yes, she was most definitely pleased.

However, her pleasure didn't last too long because she was not the only one who had
noticed that Malfoy was now staring at her with a new kind of look. She saw Harry nudge
Ron, and then she saw them both turn to look at Malfoy.

Jesus Christ.

If there was one thing Hermione had found out over the past seven years, it was the fact
that if anyone ever messed with her, she had two surrogate big brothers to take care of her.
How she wished they would both give the act up at that moment. She cursed under her
breath as Ron lunged at Malfoy and shoved him against the same wall Hermione had only
moments before shoved Ron against.

"Don't fucking look at her like that!" He had Malfoy by the collar and was nose-to-nose
with the blonde boy.

Malfoy was shocked at the sudden aggressiveness, but he didn't dare try to fight back.
Hermione knew he was too smart to think he could take Ron on physically. Instead he
used his words. "Oh, come off it, Weasley," he said in as calm of a voice that was possible.
"Like I was the only one looking. I think every male in the room is looking. Some of the
females, too," he said with a sneering glance at Millicent Bullstrode.

Hermione shuddered at the statement.

"I'll kill you if you look at her that way again," threatened Ron seriously.

`Yes, kill him, Ron,' she thought. `Then maybe he'll get the hell out of my mind. Kill him.
Or, damn, at least beat the shit out of him.'

Malfoy simply laughed, a strange thing to do considering Ron was more than capable of
living up to his promise. "Oh, please, Weasley. And you'd better tell your little girlfriend not
to go showing so much of her ass all the time. You know, people might get the wrong idea
and begin to think she's not as much of a prude as she really is. Wouldn't want her to get
tainted, now would you?"

Ron made a serious move to punch Malfoy, but Hermione realized she wanted to be the
one to do it. God, he made her furious! She grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him away, but
before Malfoy could move away from the wall, she cornered him, immediately cursing
herself for getting so close to him.

Malfoy stared at her determinedly. "What are you going to do, Granger?" he asked snidely.
"You're going to hit me, are you? What's the matter? Don't want pretty boy Potter or poor
boy Weasley to take care of you anymore? Growing up now, are we? I'm so impressed."

Yes, she wanted to hit him. Yes, she was sick of Harry and Ron always fighting her battles
for her. Yes, she was growing up. And, God, so was he... Yes, she wanted all of this. But at
the same time she wanted to rip his clothes off. Damnit!

She made an immediate mental note that standing chest to chest with Draco Malfoy was
not good for her.

"Go fuck yourself, Malfoy," she said simply before turning to stalk away to the now-open
classroom.

`And fuck me, too, while you're at it.' The thought had forced its nasty little way into her
brain before she could help it...

********************************************

Draco Malfoy sat in the Potions classroom trying very hard to concentrate on Professor
Snape's lecture. But, of course, this was impossible.

"Go fuck yourself, Malfoy." Her words were running through his head nonstop. `Thank
you, but I'd much rather fuck you.' He hadn't said this out loud, of course, because he really
honestly did not want to die by Weasley's hands that day, but he had thought it as soon as
she'd said it.

Damn bitch.

She could go straight to hell for all he cared. At least then she wouldn't be around tempting
him.

Who the fuck did she think she was anyway? Putting on that little show in the hallway. It
was a damn good thing he was wearing his Hogwarts' robe over his uniform because he had
gotten more than a little excited when she had been squatting there in front of him showing
off her white cotton panties. He could just picture her squatting like that in front of him, those
same little white panties completely soaked with wetness before he ripped them off of her.

God, he wished she would die.

And now look at her. Sitting there beside Potter with her legs crossed like that. Didn't the
bitch know that cutting off her skirts the way she had the year before was pure torture for
him and most of the male population at the damned school? She probably did. She was
probably doing it just for that reason.

Well, if given the chance, he would torture her in his own little way. Yes, he could just imagine
the way she would beg him for more while he tortured her with his tongue. She had been wrong
when she'd said he was uninformed with matters of the tongue. Oh, he could show her just how
wrong she had been. He could see her screaming with pleasure and pleading for more while he
performed his own sweet little torture on her.

He glared across the room at her for invading his thoughts yet again and immediately wished
he hadn't turned to view her. The lecture was obviously over, and she was over there trying
to do all the work for the precious little Gryffindor trio she belonged to. She now had one leg
tucked underneath her on the chair and was standing on one leg as she leaned across the table
to show Weasley how to properly chop up the snail tongue they would need for their newest
potion. And once again, there was her tight little ass peaking out in its white-cottoned covering
from underneath the bottom of her skirt.

Why couldn't she just put on her fucking robe?

But she hadn't worn that robe much in the past few years, and most of the other girls at
Hogwarts had followed her lead as well. They now mostly pranced around clad only in
their short little skirts, tight blouses, and knee-high socks. The area between the top of
their socks and the bottom of their skirts completely exposed for the male eye.

Damn her.

Because of her, he couldn't even enjoy the sight of all the other little Hogwarts whores.
She was the only one he ever managed to notice. Damn her. Damn her.

God, he hated her.

"Your attention for a moment." Professor Snape's deep whisper snapped Draco out of his
thoughts. "As mid-terms are approaching, I have decided that instead of an exam, you will
each be responsible for taking part in a group project. This project will count as a major
part of your grade and will be your last real chance to excel in this class until the N.E.W.T.
exams have passed. I suggest that you choose your groups wisely, as such a large part of
your final mark depends on the quality of the project turned in. The groups will be small and
consist of two or three people. I'd like you all to find your members now and report to me
the make-up of the aforementioned project groups."

Draco saw the rest of the class immediately start separating themselves into groups of two
or three people. The Gryffindor house groups were so easy to predict, it wasn't even funny.
Finnigan, Longbottom, and Thomas. Patil and Brown. And, of course, Granger, Weasley,
and Potter. Draco made his own way toward Crabbe and Goyle who were seated at the
table behind him, but he was stopped when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He looked
up at Professor Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'd like you to partner Miss Granger."

What the holy fuck?

Draco looked up just in time to see Granger's head snap around at the satement. Her mouth
was open, and Draco noticed that for the first time in her sorry little life, she seemed speechless.

Of course, he wasn't much better.

"Umm... Excuse me, Sir?" He looked up at his professor to make sure he had heard correctly.

"I said I want you and Miss Granger to partner each other." He turned to face the stupid
Mudblood. "Miss Granger? Come here for a moment." Draco watched as the perfect little
Head Girl did exactly as she was told and hurried to the professor immediately.

Professor Snape continued. "I am going to require that the two of you work together because
I'd like to see at least one useful project come out of your year. You two are by far the most
capable of your year, and I am anxious to see what you will come up with."

Draco didn't speak, but he secretly reflected that Snape was full of shit. He didn't give a
damn about what the two of them could come up with. Draco knew his head of house a
bit too well, and he was positive that the only reason Snape was so insistent that he and
Granger work together was to throw Potter and Weasley off. Draco knew that there was
nothing in the world that would make Snape happier than being able to fail the dynamic
duo in their final year. Without Granger, Wonder Boy and his sidekick were really quite
stupid. Of course, without his own help, Crabbe and Goyle were also royally fucked.

Draco was more than a little shocked when Granger spoke up. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I
will not work with him."

Draco nearly shit himself. Was the prissy little perfect ass-kissing Head Girl really openly
defying a teacher like that?

Snape's expression stayed solemn as he stared down at the girl in front of him. He was still
obviously quite shocked. "Excuse me, Miss Granger?"

"I said I will not work with Draco Malfoy." Granger was standing in front of the Potions
master, her arms crossed under her well-endowed chest, staring at him determinedly.

"Oh, I am sorry, Miss Granger," Snape drawled on, "but you most certainly will. That is
unless you wish to have yourself stripped of the title of Head Girl. I am sure the Headmaster
would be most interested in learning that you have suddenly come under the assumption that
it is up to you whether or not you follow my instructions. This decision is not for you to make.
Now, I suggest you shut that smart little mouth of yours and start paying me the respect that
I am due."

To Draco's amazement, Granger actually opened her mouth to retort. However, she soon
came to her senses and shut it again, glaring at the teacher who had now turned to return to
his desk.

He heard her mutter, "Bastard," under her breath before turning her glare toward Draco,
himself.

"If you fuck me over, you will be sorry," she warned hatefully.

Fuck her over? There she went again. He could fuck her over, under, sideways... Anyway
she wanted it...

She continued. "I'm serious. If you screw up my grade, I'll make you pay."

Her grade was the last thing he wanted to screw.

"Oh, shut up, Mudblood," he found himself saying. "I'm not stupid enough to mess up my
own mark in the process. You're not worth that."

She glared at him. "God, I hate you." Her teeth were clenched.

Well, at least that particular feeling was mutual.
 
 
 

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Chapter 3