Fore Play (Dramione)

Chapter 6

Draco's heart was racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. So this was really happening - he was taking Hermione Granger to bed. Merlin, someone must have slipped some Liquid Luck into his cocktail. He frowned as Hermione suddenly veerd left away from the stairs towards the guest bedrooms, instead heading in the direction for the exit to the grounds.

"Uh, Granger," he said confused. "I thought we were going upstairs..."

"Oh no," she laughed lightly hurrying down the stone steps and onto the gravel path. "We've been somewhere you wanted to go this evening, now it's my turn to pick our next destination."

Draco bristled, "I only took you there because it was the best!"

"And it was very nice, but it was a bit soulless wasn't it?" she countered, a playful smirk on her lips. "I fancy taking you somewhere with a bit more...character."

Draco's eyes widened. What did this woman have in store for him?

They rounded a corner and were immediately shrouded in darkness. Hermione pulled Draco up against the wall of the building, pressing her body close against his. Draco looked down at her, struggling to keep his breathing steady. It had been such a long time since he'd felt this way about another person. It was a little overwhelming, but looking down into her eyes, round and wide with a sliver of moonlight shining in them, he wanted nothing more in the world than to kiss her. He teased one of her wild ringlets between his fingers he leaned a little closer. Hermione's lips grazed passed his own and pressed against his ear.

"Hold tight," she warned, and the next moment Draco felt as though he were being squeezed through a tight tube. He couldn't catch his breath as he felt his whole body hurtling sideways through the darkness. Just as suddenly his feet hit solid ground and he gasped as cold night air filled his lungs. Hermione patted him roughly on the arm, "Are you alright?"

Draco glared at her, "It's only good manners to pre-warn someone before performing a side-along apparition!" He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, "Where the hell are we?"

"Auchterarder," said Hermione slipping her hand into Draco's and guiding him up a small village high street. "We're only down the road from the hotel. You mean to say you've been going to Gleneagles for years and you've never been here?"

"I never got round to it," he sniffed defensively. Hermione laughed.

"Well we're rectifying that tonight. Come on, I've heard good things about this place."

"What place?" he asked nervously. Hermione dragged him reluctantly towards a small pub. The cheap plastic blue sign above it read 'The Niblick' and it had two crossed golf clubs hanging above the door. Draco paused, looking uncertain, "You want to go in here?"

"Yup," she smiled pushing the door open and the noise of the rowdy pub spilled out onto the quiet street. Draco didn't follow, standing out in the street stony-faced with his arms crossed. Hermione turned and looked at him expectantly, "Indulge me this much, Draco. One drink. If you don't like it we'll go back to the hotel."

"One drink," he mumbled. "I've heard that one before."

Reluctantly Draco followed her into the small Muggle pub. He took in the unfamiliar surroundings with growing apprehension; there was a small bar in the centre of the room, a large television in the corner was showing golf and a man in the corner was playing music.

"Oh good, we haven't missed the karaoke!" Hermione pointed out excitedly. Draco rolled his eyes. This definitely wasn't what he'd had in mind for tonight. Squeezing passed a few boisterous patrons, they managed to find a small table in the corner of the room. They had to squeeze close together to fit around the small table, but Draco wasn't going to complain about that.

"What would you like to drink?" she asked pulling out her purse.

"I'll have another Old Fashioned," he asked giving the place a disparaging once-over.

"They won't do cocktails here, Draco," she explained. "How about a beer instead?"

Draco pulled a face, "Fine. But I'll get this round - I want to see what they have up at the bar."

Draco slid off of his seat and disappeared through the crowd. Hermione checked her phone and tensed when she noticed she had a missed call and a text message from Harry:

Harry: Are you free to chat atm?

Hermione: Sorry I'm busy. Everything alright?

Harry: I'm fine. I just had an interesting convo with Daphne Zabini...

Hermione frowned. She knew that Draco's sister-in-law worked in the Auror's Office with Harry, but she didn't think they were particularly close work colleagues.

Hermione: Oh right. What's the gossip?

Harry: She tells me that you're out on a date with Malfoy tonight.

Hermione gasped. That absolute pillock, she thought furiously. What was he doing telling Daphne about their date? Not a date, she told herself feebly, but even she couldn't convince herself of that now. Shit, what was she going to tell Harry?

Harry: Is that why you're too busy to chat?

"I don't like the cut of your jib!" a gruff voice boomed over the music. The chatter died down as Hermione heard a familiar voice reply.

"The cut of my what? Sir, if you are going to address me, do so in English."

Hermione's head snapped towards the bar and she groaned. Draco was sneering down at a portly man with cropped red hair who conspicuously had the phrase 'Alba gu bràth' tattooed across his neck. The man may have been a head shorter than Draco, but he didn't look like the sort to be trifled with. Panic rising in her, Hermione shoved her phone into her handbag and hurried towards the bar. This night was quickly spirally out of control.

"That's enough, Tam!" the barmaid shouted at the red-haired man. "I don't want any fighting in my pub tonight!"

The man ignored the barmaid's warning and poked a stubby finger into Draco's chest, "We don't like your type in here."

Draco's eyes narrowed and he sneered, "My type? Well-dressed and well-spoken - that type, you mean?"

"The English type!" growled Tam.

Hermione grabbed Draco by the arm, "Come on, let's just head back up to the hotel."

But Draco didn't budge, "Not yet, Granger. I haven't finished chatting to my little friend here."

Tam spluttered indignantly, but Draco interrupted him again before he could respond, "You Scots are famed for being able to hold your liquor, correct?"

The pub erupted into laughs and cheers. Tam gave Draco a toothy grin, "Aye, that we are."

"Then let's settle this the old-fashioned way; a drinking contest. Last man standing wins."

"Draco, this is stupid!" hissed Hermione, but her protestations were drowned out in the eruption of cheers and jeers from everyone else in the pub. The barmaid slammed a bottle of Fireball Cinammon Whisky in front of the men and filled two shot glasses.

Draco and Tam clinked their glasses together and downed the first drink. Everyone except Hermione cheered. Draco kept his expression impassive as he slammed the empty shot glass down onto the bar and nodded for a refill, but his eyes were streaming. The whiskey had an unexpected kick to it. Hermione watched nervously as Draco and the other man downed shot after shot. She felt her phone buzz in her purse again but she ignored it, watching proceedings unfold with a growing sense of unease. After the tenth shot, Tam's face was as bright as his hair. Draco clung desperately to the bar, but he refused to back down.

"Ready to give up, sassenach?" jibed Tam, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"Nope," replied Draco, struggling to keep his eyes focused. With a struggle, he raised his shot glass, "Ready when you are!"

Tam aimed for Draco's glass and missed spectacularly, pouring whiskey all down the front of his suit trousers. Draco snorted and slapped Tam heartily on the shoulder, who began to giggle hysterically. The next moment Draco's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he keeled over. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was Hermione shrieking his name.