Draco
Never in my life would I have ever expected Hermione Granger to sit herself in my lap and start to make love bites on my neck.
And yet, here I am.
"B-But you hate me," I stammer as she starts to nibble my tender skin with a bit of force.
I let out a moan because I can't help myself, and she pulls away briefly to speak.
"You've changed," she whispers, and kisses me on the lips, hard.
I have no idea what to do besides figure out what's happening - besides her snogging me.
I'll admit one thing - she's not half-bad like I'd thought she'd be. Alright, fine, she's absolutely the best. I let out another moan; my neck is my weakness, and she's making me hard as hell right now. If she feels it sitting on top of me, she doesn't let on.
She places a hand under my ear and wraps her other hand around my waist, pulling me closer, if that's physically possible at this point. She moves her right hand from under my ear into my messed-up hair, something I've never let anyone do in my entire life... until now.
But I should stop her.
Why am I not stopping her? Is this what I want?
No, you're drunk.
But you've let her kiss you! You're still kissing her right now! That's true; she's tugging on my lower lip while I contemplate all of this. I'm trying not to let the low growl forming in the back of my throat release, but I can't help it; I've never felt like this when I've kissed a girl, and I've kissed enough to know.
She hasn't slipped me her tongue.
That doesn't mean anything! Why is she getting to my head?! Why am I letting her do this?
"Draco Malfoy..." she whispers into my ear, and I manage to pull away for a second to look into her eyes.
They're absolutely wild and bleary, and that's when it hits me.
She's completely trashed, though I have no idea how. I swear she was with me most of the time, and she stopped drinking the punch after her first glass.
The punch.
Pansy. The conversation. We looked away for a few seconds, which gave her time to... spike her drink with something that's definitely stronger than Firewhisky. Stronger even compared to all the drinks Weaslette had.
That bastard.
"Wait," I say, trying harder to extract myself from her. "Gra-Hermione, you're not in the right state of mind. You've been drugged or something, and I'm not doing this with you when you're not able to think clearly."
Do I even want to? The first few days haven't been horrible, but I wouldn't say that I fancy her... I think.
"Draco..." she murmurs into my ear, and goes limp in my arms. I sigh, carefully scooping her up in my arms with ease.
I start to head toward her dorm, but then I realize, as I have one foot on the first step, that I can't go up there.
"Guess we'll be sleeping in the common room tonight," I mumble, and she stirs in my arms.
"Ron... Draco... peppermint... wood..." she murmurs as I lay her on the sofa.
Then I run up to my dorm, and grab two blankets from my bed. I run back to the common room and gently drape one over Granger.
I settle myself in a plush armchair that's angled at her so I can watch her until I fall asleep, resting a blanket on myself. Thankfully, only Zabini, Weaslette, Granger, and I know the password, so we should be safe.
For now.
Hermione
The morning light hits my eyes, and I slowly wake up, trying to grasp my surroundings. I can distinctly see a mop of blond-white hair sitting a few feet away from me.
Malfoy, of course.
Wait. What's Malfoy doing in my room? No, he's not allowed here... Oh Merlin, am in his? This doesn't feel like a bed, though, and it's not very soft. Huh, it smells strongly of leather and parchment. Strange.
Oh Merlin, my head hurts so much.
I try to remember what happened last night, but all I come up with is Malfoy dragging me off to the party and Zabini bringing Ginny. I think he got a bit of backlash for it, but somehow we ended up getting out without being hexed. He was true to his promise.
Thankfully I know it's a Sunday, so I don't need to get up. Still, I need to figure where I am.
After a few minutes of trying to focus my vision, I realize that Malfoy's sleeping in an armchair across from me, and I'm on the settee in our common room.
I don't remember coming back here. Ginny must've brought me back.
"Malfoy?" I ask aloud.
"What?! What is it?!" He immediately wakes up, getting to his feet and looking around frantically. "Oh, Granger, you're awake," he says, softening his volume. For some reason, his neck is burning bright red all of a sudden, but I decide not to comment on it.
"What happened last night?" I ask, and he looks out the window. I momentarily see multiple dark purple marks on the right side of his neck, and I roll my eyes. I don't remember if he made out with anyone, but clearly he did at some point.
"You and Weaslette survived the party. Luckily, Weaslette charmed them enough so they tolerated her. And she threatened everyone. You both, um, got really drunk."
"What happened to Ginny?" I ask, looking around.
"She left us halfway through the party to sober up," Malfoy replies, and avoids my eyes as he continues.
"So how did we get back here? When did we get back here?"
"I, uh, helped you back here after I punched Goyle. You were asleep, so I set you on the sofa. I didn't want to wake you."
"Th-Thank you," I respond, trying to conceal my amazement. He did that for me? I'm betting that this blanket that's on me right now is his. "You didn't have to stay down with me, you know."
"Well," he says, distracting himself with the view, his back turned to me, "it was the least I could do."
"How drunk was I? Did I do anything stupid?" I ask fearfully.
"Very drunk, but I managed to get you out alive. But you didn't flash anything, if that's what you were wondering," Malfoy turns so I can see him smirk and roll his eyes.
"Anything else?" I press. I don't think he's telling me the whole truth; he won't quite meet my eyes.
"No, unless you count Goyle being clocked because he used a nasty word to describe you," he says flatly, and starts to walk up to his dorm. We both know what he means by that; I never realized how defensive he got over it now, though. "We ought to get dressed and go down for breakfast," he adds. "Weaslette ought to be the one to tell you what she did."
-----
"You did all that?" I demand, and Ginny gives me a tired but amused smile.
"I paid the price, Hermione. Hangovers aren't fun, you know. Harry would kill me if he knew I went there, oh but Ron, I swear, if he tells Mum, I'm dead. In the Slytherin common, no less! She'll disown me."
"I can't believe you were that desperate for them to accept you, Ginny!" I hissed, lowering my voice as I saw some of the Slytherins looking over at us. They smirked at Ginny, who smiled - no, smirked - back at them.
"Are you one of them now?" I ask, and her eyes widen.
"Of course not! I just felt so good, Hermione. To be able to not worry about school, Ron catching me, what people thought... I should do that more often," she finishes thoughtfully.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley you did not just say that!"
"Hermione, quiet, please," she says. "My head."
"OH PLEASE, I'M SORRY THAT YOU GOT COMPLETELY WAS-" I start to say loudly, but she claps a lazy hand over my mouth to stop me.
I'll admit, I have a hangover too, but I know that I only drank one cup of that punch. Malfoy said that we were both super drunk, though, but Ginny clearly had so many more rounds.
"How many drinks did you have?" I inquire, and she tilts her head, thinking.
"Maybe six? I think a few more, though at least I'm not dead, so it must be less than ten."
"I'm fairly sure I only had one and ended up passing out."
"Maybe you're less tolerant to the punch."
I shrug.
"Hey," I whisper, eyeing Malfoy as he goes to sit down at the Slytherin table next to Zabini. "Do you know if I did anything or said anything to Malfoy?"
She turns her head, propping it up with her arm on the table. "No, why?"
"He seemed... I don't know, distant towards me in the common room. Resigned, I suppose you could say."
"What do you think you did? Or said?" she asks, her brow furrowing. Then her face twists into a smirk that would put Malfoy's signature expression to shame.
"Maybe you two did it," she hisses, and I slap her arm.
"Ginny, that is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard! And he'd probably stop me and tell me how revolted he was if I was that drunk," I add.
"Really, Hermione, we were both so trashed that it could've been anything."
"Maybe he was hooking up with someone and I ruined his night," I say, putting my head in my hands in frustration.
"What makes you say that?" she asks.
"I saw a few hickeys on his neck this morning," I reply, and her eyes widen.
"And maybe you gave them to him!" she finishes, and I wrinkle my nose.
"Really, Ginny, that's not possible."
"You never know," she says in a sing-songy voice. "Besides, why do you care if he's not totally engaged in your small talk?"
"I asked him if I did anything stupid last night!" I hiss, and she turns back to her food, shrugging again.
"Maybe he had a hangover too," she says.
I shake my head, giving up. "Maybe you're right."
Draco
"So you-"
"Yes."
"And are you two-"
"No."
"But do you want to-"
"I-" My voice catches. "I don't know."
"And does she remember-"
"Not a thing."
"And you didn't stop-"
"No, I didn't."
"So what are you-"
"I don't know, Blaise!" I say angrily.
Since Weaslette and Granger decided to go study in the library, I invited Blaise over to my common room and revealed last night's events. It took him a few minutes of sitting in silence with his mouth open like a cod fish until he finally spoke.
Which led to this conversation where he began to ask expected questions, and I answered them before he could finish.
"Alright, so what do you know?" he shoots back, and I sigh, my head in my hands as I sit on the sofa next to him.
"I didn't stop her at first, but then I saw that she was drunk and so-"
"Wait," he interrupts, holding up a hand. "You stopped her after you realized she was drunk, so that means..." His eyes widen with shock. "Were you willing to kiss her if she wasn't?"
"No! Yes! I don't know, you tell me!" I snap, confused.
"Actually, I will," he says. "You like her."
"That's ridiculous," I snort, and he sighs.
"Stage one: denial," he replies simply. "And if you'll excuse me, mate, I need to find Ginny."
He starts to get up, but I stand up faster and block him. "Wait," I say. "One, you called her Ginny, and two, why do you need to meet her?"
"It's called respect for girl power," he says in a haughty voice, and I sneer.
"I'm all about women empowerment, Blaise, but you wouldn't know it if it was neon pink and danced around naked in front of you."
He rolls his eyes and simply walks around me, calling, "There's the Malfoy we know and love."
Blaise
Of course, the library is the first place to go when looking for Ginny.
If she isn't in Gryffindor Tower, the Great Hall, class, or the Quidditch field, then she's in the library.
I quietly walk in and find her sitting with stacks of books open around her, along with a long piece of parchment and multiple quills.
"Where's Granger?" I ask, and she looks up in surprise. "Hey, Zabini. She's looking for more books."
I place my hand over my chest, throwing a fake look of dramatic sadness on my face. "No 'Blaise'? My heart, oh Ginny, how shall I ever live?"
She rolls her eyes, laughing.
"Alright, what is it?"
"Can you not tell Granger this? It's important," I say, and she nods uncertainly.
"What is it?"
"She kissed Draco when she was super drunk last night," I whisper, and her eyes widen.
"WHAT?!" Ginny shouts, and everyone around her shoots her an annoyed glance and shushes her.
"Ginny, what happened?" Granger asks, walking briskly from a few bookshelves away.
"Nothing," she says hastily, and I shoot her a grateful look. "I need to talk to Blaise for a moment. Privately. Be right back," she promises, and Granger shoots me a confused look.
We walk away from the library, ignoring all of the stares and whispers, finally coming to a deserted piece of the hall.
"You're not joking, are you?" she asks, studying my face carefully.
"No, and he told me that she doesn't remember anything."
"So that's why she thought something was off..." Ginny muses, and when I give her a confused look, she explains, "Hermione thought Draco was a bit off when they woke up. She also saw hickeys on his neck and..."
"Yes, that was her doing."
"And I can't tell her?" Ginny asks, tilting her head to the side.
"I'm leaving that up to him," I shrug, and she sighs, but nods understandingly.
"By the way, Harry's letter should come by tomorrow with the map."
I roll my eyes. "This ought to be fun, right? Spying on our friends acting like they're..."
There's a dangerous sort of gleam in her eyes. "Oh yes, it will be fun alright."
"By the way," I start, knowing that I'm risking my limbs by saying this. "That was quite the story you told everyone last night. As well as your dance moves..." I chuckle, remembering the crazy night.
She scowls. "Bring that up again, and I'll-"
"Yes, Miss," I interrupt, and she rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say."
So far my favorite chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, though probably screaming at Hermione and cheering for Ginny. I'm really trying to keep Ginny true to her book personality: strong, caring, kind, smart, sassy... with some girlish-gossipy attitude!
Comment #Ginny if you enjoyed this chapter!
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