Disclaimer - Don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Vila is my own.

The night was far too hot for Hermione. The sheets of her bed felt like a straightjacket – trapping her body in their slick and powerful embrace, sticking to the skin of her arms and legs. Hermione resigned herself to a restless night, and slipped quietly out of bed. She threw her dressing gown over her pyjamas, and tiptoed out of her dorm, down many flights of deserted stairs, through the doors of the entrance hall, and into the cool gardens on the grounds outside.

A welcoming wind blew across her fragile frame, giving Hermione a small feeling of comfort and relief in the June night's cruel heat. She closed her eyes indulgently and allowed the refreshing zephyr to lift her long, brown locks off her neck and shoulders.

Alarmed by a hushed murmur of voices carried towards her by the breeze, Hermione stiffened and her eyes snapped open. Her curiosity was piqued. Hermione walked in the direction from whence the murmurs came, taking off her shoes so her footsteps would not be heard. As she approached a large rose bush at the far end of the gardens, the voices became louder, and Hermione noticed that it wasn't exactly talking, more like…moaning? A woman's moan.

Unable to overcome her curiosity, she peaked over the bush to see where the owner of the voice was. Hermione had to cover her mouth to prevent a shocked gasp from escaping her lips. It was Vila Lethorne, a pretty but snobby Slytherin girl who was being made wild, passionate love to by Draco Malfoy!

They seemed completely lost in their passionate act – Vila's naked body wrapped around Draco's, her head thrown roughly back against a tree as Draco's powerful body moved with a strong ease against hers, thrusting deeply. Vila appeared to be making almost all the noise, panting frantically as she tried to claim Draco's lips. Turning his blonde head away from hers he avoided her lips and bit Vila's shoulder, making her squeal. In delight or pain Hermione couldn't rightly tell…

Flinging his head back towards Vila's, Draco suddenly met Hermione's eyes. For a brief second, shock could be seen in his glittering eyes as he took in Hermione's open mouth and flushed features. But the shock was soon replaced with his famous evil smirk. His eyes not leaving hers he continued to thrust roughly into Vila, his body beaded in sweat as the lustful ritual continued, making her scream in intense pleasure.

Hermione had never noticed how strong and powerful Draco's body was. As his eyes bore into hers she realized how… sexy he was. Horrified by her thoughts Hermione broke out of her paralysed state and, finding that her feet had regained their powers of motion, she turned quickly away, and ran as fast as she could, only stopping once she was back in the safety of her room. Noticing how cold her feet were she groaned as she realized that she'd dropped her shoes as soon as she started sprinting away from Draco's amused eyes. They were still there and it was evidence that she'd been a Peeping Tom!

Another realization immediately hit Hermione: her panties were wet! No, she couldn't possibly have enjoyed that… that sordid show she'd just been witness to. With a shake of her head, Hermione crawled back into bed. It didn't matter now, anyway, as tomorrow was the beginning of the summer hols, and she would be going home. She wouldn't have to face Draco again until seventh year started, and by then he'd hopefully have forgotten about what she'd done and seen. Closing her eyes, Hermione quickly fell into a heavy sleep, images of Draco's body, lips, and eyes unceremoniously intruding upon her dreams.
It was only the first of long, lust filled nights Hermione would fall asleep with Draco tormenting her dreams.