vices | D.M. + H.G.

five: i'm so drunk

Hermione vividly remembered the way that Yaxley had aimed some advanced form of the Killing Curse at Pansy, Blaise, and Theo, and how Draco had – from an alcove just out of sight to everyone but her – risked his life, and being revealed as a traitor, to throw Shield Charm after Shield Charm over them. If she hadn't seen it herself, she may not have believed it.

And the way that he so willingly joined forces with her once he'd seen her blatant panic about Veritas – that was sort of protective, wasn't it?

Alright, so Draco Malfoy was plenty protective. That could go on the list, for now at least.

This was going to feel very much like a cop-out, Hermione knew, but she also did enjoy how smart he was, and without even trying. He was just behind her in their rankings, and being Heads together gave them ample time to spar about academics.

She could remember how just days ago when he'd seen her reading a book about a possible new use for Dragon's Blood and immediately snorted, discrediting the theory completely. She'd watched in awe at how he'd not hesitated to launch into a well-thought-out speech on how the author was completely incorrect and how the tests had been flawed – something Hermione hadn't even picked up on yet.

Granted, he had spoiled the book for her, but that was beside the point.

His rant had subsequently launched her into one of her own, and before they knew it, they'd both missed dinner because of it. Neither of them had won that argument, but she knew that she hadn't had such a refreshing – or challenging – debate in years.

Begrudgingly adding his intelligence to the list, she admired her three points with pride. It wasn't the full seven, but she was nearly halfway there. Hermione had found some of the good in Draco Malfoy – that was something to be excited about.

And a part of her couldn't wait to compile the other four.

-

"Hey, Granger!" a feminine voice called from across the hallway. Hermione turned, searching for the person the voice belonged to.

"Parkinson?" she asked in confusion. "What's up?"

"I can't just ask you how your day's going?" she teased, clapping her on the back and slinging an arm around her shoulder. "I happen to enjoy your company, Granger. Is that so hard to believe?"

"I thought you only enjoyed it when we were drunk," Hermione muttered, her smirk breaking way to a full-blown smile.

"Well, of course, I do," Pansy snarked. "I happen to like you just the same anyway."

Hermione laughed. "You're really something, aren't you?" She shook her head. "It's a good thing I wasn't exposed to you sooner – you would have been bad for me."

"Oh Granger," Pansy cooed as they walked. "Who says I'm still not?"

"I'm sure you still are," Hermione said. "I don't doubt that. I just don't see how I can get any worse."

At that, Pansy let out a real, deep laugh. "You have no idea," she said. "With the company you keep, I wouldn't be surprised if you were done for and weren't even aware of it. Come on," she stressed, "Theo? Draco? Me?" She shook her head. "You're fucked, Granger," Pansy said, tilting her head and regarded her, before questioning, "but I don't think you care much, do you?"

Biting on her lower lip, Hermione thought about her question. "No," she admitted freely, "not really. I don't see how I can get much worse, if I'm being honest." Her smile was wry, but twinged with sadness.

Pansy stopped them at that, and softened only just, before her normal façade was back. "Granger, sweetie," she said affectionately. "You're only as fucked as the rest of us. We all have things we'd very much like to forget, things we wish we could undo," she said. "But without them, we wouldn't be where we are now. We wouldn't have the friendships we do, and we wouldn't know what camaraderie was."