Chapter Text
Hermione Granger hated flying and everything that came with it. No wonder that Quidditch was not exactly her favourite sport, as if there even was such a thing as a favourite sport for her. But as a bright young witch, she had to admit that certain perks were coming with this sport, even if one was not keen on watching the game itself.
Being herself, she would never allow to let anyone to know that her favourite part of watching Quidditch was Draco Malfoy’s thighs, broom thighs to be quite exact. One could probably do a study on them. For Hermione, it was not really relevant what said study was to investigate, but it would certainly reveal that Draco Malfoy had the nicest broom thighs she had the chance of laying her eyes on. Merlin forbid, she would never admit that out loud. Even if a certain redhead was keen on loosening Hermione's tongue.
Loud music was pounding in her ears, Muggle music to be exact. Quite the spell, somehow one of the Hufflepuffs had charmed a Muggle radio to play modern music even in Hogwarts. Around her and Ginny, people were chatting animatedly. The two girls were sitting on one of the mustard yellow couches in the Hufflepuff common room. The badgers were throwing quite the party, Hermione had to admit. And being next to the kitchen seemed to come quite handy for such occasions. The yummiest snacks were lined up next to them on tables, and the most delicious smells wafted towards them.
Originally, Hermione hadn’t planned on going to the party, but Ginny could be very convincing, and somehow she ended up next to her on the couch. Looking at all the different kinds of plants, Hermione guessed that this would be Neville's dream, but he seemed occupied, talking to Pansy Parkinson.
The war had done strange things to all of them. This could also be the explanation why Ginny tried to talk her into developing a crush or hooking up with someone. Quite the conversation, given their drunken state.
“Come on, Mione. You can’t tell me that there is not at least one good looking chap catching your eye? Or maybe lady? After you dated my brother, you can’t convince me that you do not find anyone attractive. Let's be honest, literally everyone at Hogwarts is more attractive than Ron! Even -Oi that hurt!”
Hermione scoffed at Ginny’s use of the words chap and lady. The whole situation felt ridiculous.
"Ginny Weasley, you talk like an 80-year-old woman"
After Hermione shoved her elbow gently into Ginny’s left, she finally stopped talking, which was probably for the better. Behind them, the party in the Hufflepuff common room roared to life once again when a sixth-year Hufflepuff produced a whole barrel of butterbeer out of thin air and proposed a game of truth or dare. A game Hermione would certainly not partake in.
“For being with Harry, you are certainly interested in talking about other people's love lives!” Hermione pointed out to Ginny. She hoped that her friend would not notice her looking around the room for a certain someone.
“Well, I want to live vicariously through you, and now let’s find you a new crush. Sitting in class without one must be terribly boring, I imagine.”
“Well, for one, you could pay attention in class.” Hermione took another sip of her butterbeer. Slowly, she started feeling a little funny, exactly what she needed right now. Better safe than sorry, she took another sip.
“Oh come on, you sound like McGonagall, and I bet even she had game back then!”
"Firstly, Ew, and secondly, isn't being with Harry Potter interesting enough for you?"
“Nope”
“I feared you would say that.”
"You're like a sister to me, a sister who had a thing with my brother, but everyone makes mistakes", Ginny patted Hermione on the arm as if she was offering condolences.
"Like drinking too much, for example?"
"It happens to the best of us", Ginny shrugged.
Hermione took another sip from her butterbeer and watched a drunk Neville talking to Pansy Parkinson.
A man on a mission, apparently.
Even if his taste was debatable. But to be honest, the Slytherins had a certain appeal after the war. Maybe it was the fact that they finally started talking to them, acting like normal people and not rich snobs for once. Or it was this whole being bad vibe they had going on; no one knew for certain.
“What are they doing?” Ginny asked Hermione.
As soon as the words left her lips, Pansy got hold of Neville's tie and tugged him into a passionate kiss. At first, the Gryffindor seemed reluctant, but then he grabbed Pansy and pressed her against him.
Hermione watched with a raised eyebrow as Neville's hands wandered down to the Slytherin's bum and went on an excursion there.
“I am not going to answer that. Even if I tried, I wouldn't know what to say.”, Hermione stated, taking another sip.
As the make-out session between Neville and Pansy grew more intense, she turned around. She had no interest in getting traumatised tonight, thank you very much.
“Please forget that I ever asked. We are not nearly drunk enough to start deep diving into whatever that is."
Ginny made a vague hand gesture in the general direction of the whole Pansy and Neville encounter.
“Never knew that lions have a thing for snakes, but Longbottom has got game, I gotta admit that”, a low voice commented behind the sofa on which the two girls were seated.
Slowly, the two young women turned around, already knowing who was lurking there.
Blaise Zabini looked as immaculate as always in a white Oxford. His sleeves were rolled up, and he had opened the first few buttons. Apparently, he was trying out a bold look again. He succeeded, and Hermione had to swallow.
Another one of Hermione's weaknesses, but she was pretty certain that Zabini would not have the same appeal in this outfit as a certain blond git.
Oh damn it, she needed more alcohol. Maybe something stronger? She started looking around.
“Well, look what the kneezle dragged in, Zabini. Where have you been?” Ginny turned around and smiled up at the young man.
Hermione was certain that he could be a Roman god. Amor? It seemed somehow fitting.
Hermione was still not able to grasp the whole concept of Ginny’s and Blaise’s friendship, but it seemed to work rather well for them. Most of the time, Hermione was pretty sure that the two of them were developing some sort of scheme, and sometimes, not knowing everything was for the better, she had decided very early on. Still, Hermione had to admit that she had grown fond of the Slytherin, too.
“Oh, you know, everywhere and nowhere. Tried to convince Draco to come here.” Blaise sat down next to them, placing an expensive-looking bottle of something on the table in front of them.
“Speaking of the blond git, where is he?” asked Ginny.
“Well, I tried, didn’t say that I succeeded. So please fill me in on what I missed, why is Pansy currently sucking on Longbottom’s tongue and why am I not currently doing to same thing to Luna?” Blaise summoned a glass and a bottle of firewhiskey, wandless, impressive. A trick that certainly worked on some girls, but not her.
“You are still not over your crush?” Hermione asked.
“See? Having a crush is certainly entertaining. Blaise, please tell Hermione here that she needs a crush or maybe a fling to forget the whole fiasco with my brother. I still get the ick when I think about it. Urgh"
Ginny pushed an already filled glass with firewhiskey in Zabini’s hands before he could fill his own and filled her glass again to the brim. Zabini took a sip and raised an eyebrow towards Hermione. Then he lounged down next to them on the couch. He grimaced slightly and glanced at his expensive bottle on the table, which made the two Gryffindors grin.
“You need a crush, believe me. Ask Draco, he knows all about pining after someone without acting on your attraction. He is an expert in that regard, always the gentleman, and never as brave as our friend Longbottom over there. What a shame that some people are so oblivious when it comes to being happy.”
“Please, Blaise, tell me why you compare me to Longbottom again? What did I miss? Oh, I see,” drawled a voice behind them, and a cold shiver ran along Hermione's back. Goosebumps started to rise.
Oh damn that voice.
“Didn’t think you would come. What convinced you to join us on this fine evening?” Blaise greeted Draco with a handshake.
Instead of sitting down on the couch opposite them, Draco sat next to Hermione. Near next to her, with his broom thighs pressed slightly against her thighs. Was it appropriate to panic? Hopefully, he was not able to tell which effect he had on her since Mafloy had struck up a conversation with Zabini.
Suddenly, everything felt way too hot and Hermione became shockingly aware of his presence. Quidditch, broom thighs,
Merlin’s socks, the potions classroom, cute pygmymuffs. Stay calm. She had to escape the situation and Merlin, and was that Britney Spears? Listening to Muggle music in Hogwarts was still an interesting experience, and she would have never guessed that Britney Spears would come to her rescue.
“Ginny, you love that song, remember? We listened to it at the burrow. Let's dance.” Hermione leaped to her feet and accidentally spilled a bit of her butterbeer on the rug. Ginny gave her a look that could be described as concerned, but she did not argue with Hermione, and the two girls made their way to the dance floor.
“Merlin, if Neville und Parkinson don’t find a room soon, they are going to shag in the common room and I am not sure if I will be able to forget that picture.” Hermione tried to talk to Ginny over the music while they started dancing.
“To me, it seems that you rather need to find a room with a fellow Slytherin for yourself, judging by your reaction to him. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I am not blind, and the ferret has gotten fit.”
Hermione hoped that she would spontaneously combust or fade out or anything else. Of course, Ginny had noticed, and now the redhead smiled knowingly while they sang to the lyrics of the Spice Girls and “Wannabe”. How fitting.
Ginny seemed to have tremendous fun singing the lyrics to her, especially the part with: Get your act together!
Hermione thought of her options and decided on more alcohol for her and Ginny. Nobody would bat an eye at two war heroines getting really drunk. The safest option seemed to just get the bottle of firewhiskey from Zabini, and therefore Hermione took out her wand, not trusting herself with wandless magic right now.
Apparently, she had underestimated her condition because the bottle shook violently back and forth. Suddenly, she saw a second wand pointing at the bottle, and it arrived safely in her hands. Malfoy just grinned and winked at her. He winked! Malfoy! Hermione turned around and took a sip from the bottle, then she looked at Ginny.
“Bottoms up.”
Hermione was relieved that it was hot in the common room, so she could describe this as the cause of her reddened cheeks and not the way two Slytherins were watching them. Sometimes they seemed to stop their conversation, sometimes they seemed to talk about them.
What a strange feeling.
Song after song, Ginny and Hermione danced and sang, honey brown eyes finding cool grey ones, fire and ice. The music blasted loudly through the room, and more people started to fill the dance floor. It was hot and sweaty and just incredibly, a feeling of freedom she had not been able to experience in a long time. But still, she felt watched, and it felt good. Hermione had not known that she missed this kind of attention so badly. She felt desired strangely, and her dancing felt more intense with every song.
When the first minute of “Genie in a Bottle” played, she felt like the song brought her into a weird kind of hypnotic state, and she was not able to tear her eyes from him. Draco watched her, and he seemed not to be ashamed about it. He seemed more like he enjoyed himself, sipping firewhiskey, talking to Blaise, and roaming his eyes shamelessly over her body. Maybe it was the butterbeer, maybe it was the feeling of freedom, or the music, or even lust.
Maybe it was the way he looked at her, or his broom thighs, and the idea of him in his Quidditch gear. Maybe it was a mix of all these things. But one thing was for sure: Hermione wanted him and did not care about the consequences. Ginny had been right, hooking up was a great idea.
Hermione started looking more intently in his direction, hoping he would get the message. She started putting her hands up into her hair, which she was wearing even wilder today. Then she turned to Ginny, taking the bottle again from her.
“I need to take the loo, going to the prefect's bathroom. See you later,” and Ginny seemed to understand. Maybe she was a bit confused about the sudden change in Hermione, but she kept dancing, giving her a sly smile.
“Have fun!”
Hermione was not entirely sure how she found her way to the prefect's bathroom, and she did not even remember mumbling the password. She just remembered his presence behind her before she was able to enter the room. She turned around, smirked at him, and leaned against the wall. With one hand, she ruffled her hair in the hope of looking as attractive as possible.
“Malfoy, nice meeting you here.”
“Merlin Granger, how drunk are you?” Draco seemed kind of concerned, which was weird and not what Hermione wanted to achieve.
“Not nearly drunk enough, believe me. So why did you follow me? Why did you watch me?” Hermione managed a small smile and took one step towards him. He did not retreat immediately which seemed good for her plan.
“I don’t know which game you are playing, Granger. And I am not sure whether I like it.”, his grey eyes had darkened. If Hermione wasn't mistaken in the shadows of the corridor, his breathing was becoming more irregular. His usual appearance of control was nowhere to be found.
“I think you and I could have some fun, you know?”
Right now Hermione wished that he was wearing his tie so she could pull the same move as Parkinson had on Neville but unfortunately, Malfoy did not wear a tie. But he wore his Oxford just like Blaise with the top unbuttoned. Her gaze fell on his pale skin and the fine scars that peeked out from under his Oxford shirt. Slowly, she raised her hand and traced one of the scars.
„Does it hurt?“
“I think you hurt way more than I did.”
Hermione looked up, directly into the infinite blackness of his eyes, and upon closer inspection, she noticed a few bright spots. This was how she had imagined the universe to be: infinitely beautiful, infinitely deep. One could lose oneself in it. His eyes were beautiful. And even if he was broken, so was she. So who even cared about that?
“You know what Malfoy? I think I could like who you are going to become”
Before Hermione was able to register what was happening, Malfoy crowded her against the wall. One of his hands moved up her neck and then rested on it. He pressed Hermione against the wall until she could feel the cool stone against her back. Malfoy looked into her eyes once more and moved closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. He stopped there, allowing her to make a decision, and she did.
Hermione wound her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Mafloy supported me against the wall with one arm and with the other he wandered further and further down her back. Hermione started nibbling on his lower lip and then ran her tongue along it. Malfoy kissed her fiercely again and pressed her against the wall with all his weight. Her hands ran along his shirt, unbuttoning more and more buttons. His hands slowly moved down her hips, pulling her even closer to him, even though the young witch had thought that impossible.
She let her hands wander, finally reaching into his hair which always looked so soft and silky and then thud.
“Hermione, are you alright?”
Hermione jumped up in fright. She had fallen out of bed and Ginny stood next to her, a concerned expression painted on her face.
“I’m fine, I think I want to snog Malfoy senseless?” Hermione was confused. She was not even sure if she was still dreaming. How drunk had she been? Had that happened? What was going on? She could certainly feel a headache pounding.
“Oh Hermione, that’s …” Ginny seemed at a loss for words.
“Wait! Did Neville make out with Parkinson, or was that part of my dream too?” Hermione needed some clarification about yesterday’s party.
“Merlin, how drunk were you?” Ginny’s gaze grew concerned as if Hermione had hit herself on falling out of bed.
“Well, what was the last time you saw me?”
“Let me think, Merlin, does your head hurt too? We drank way too much. We danced, then we danced some more, talked to Zabini and Malfoy, and then we left the party together. Or at least we tried.”
Hermione was confused. “What do you mean, we tried? I did not go to the loo alone? Malfoy did not follow me?”
Merlin, had all of that been a dream? It had felt so real. What a shame.
“Well, you tumbled on our way out and hit your head on the door of that barrel. What a weird construction for a door. Malfoy, knight in shining armor, caught you, and then he and Zabini accompanied us back to the Tower. That’s it. I think Neville had a more spectacular night than we did.” At that thought, both Hermione and Ginny cringed. The whole Parkinson situation was definitely interesting and shocking to say the least.
“What? Oh Merlin!”
Hermione slowly got up, her head still throbbing far too loudly. She sank onto her bed next to Ginny and reached for the glass of water and the potion on the bedside table. At least she had thought ahead yesterday. Everything felt like a muddled mess in her head, probably a mix of the alcohol and the whole hitting her head situation.
“So, let’s circle back to the whole Malfoy snogging thing. It’s those damn broom thights, right?
At the request of her red-haired friend, Hermione let herself fall backwards. Not a good decision, as the world spun even faster.
“Oh, Ginny.”
“Say no more, you are in luck, Slytherin is playing Ravenclaw in two days and we won’t miss it!”
Suddenly, Ginny looked very motivated. Hermione could only grin. What would she do without a friend like Ginny?
‘And do you know what the best part of the whole party dream thing is?’
‘I'm sure you'll tell me in a moment.’
‘I was right. A crush is always good, and now I have to go back to bed. We'll talk tomorrow!’ With these words, Ginny made her way back across the room to her bed and closed the curtains.
Hermione was in trouble, that much was clear.