I had half expected to wake up in my own bed, but after glancing at the dreary beige walls and the dirty floors, I thought otherwise. Where the hell was I?
Stretching, I sat up and scratched my stomach. When I coughed, my head rattled uncomfortably, no doubt from the large amount of alcohol I had consumed the previous night. I hadn’t had a hangover in a long time, so I was very unhappy that it felt as though there were a million drums pounding in my head.
Wincing, I rolled over.
There was dried wine stains in the bed, so I slid off it and to the dirty mirror on the other side of the room. The floorboard creaked as I looked at my reflection. I looked like I hadn’t had any sleep whatsoever. Actually, I didn’t know whether I had much sleep at all. I slid my hands over my tired face and then I noticed movement in the corner of my eye.
Someone had rolled over sleepily in the bed.
Grinning, I congratulated myself. Last night I had obviously hit the jackpot with some nameless girl that I had picked up. I have to admit even I was beginning to get tired of these stupid witches who fall for any old chat-up line. I wondered how I got her up here. It couldn’t have been too hard. I mean, I had to have been drunk when it happened. Maybe she was too. It was a shame that the night was so hazy…
I turned around to admire her petite figure within the bed linen and it was easy to say that I was impressed.
The one thought that was gnawing away at the back of my brain was the fact that I had been here to meet Granger. I vividly remember her arriving, but when did she leave?
When I saw a mane of messy bushy brown hair, I almost collapsed as the memories flashed back to me.
It couldn’t have been. It just couldn’t. No. Not her.
“We didn’t…” I whispered to myself, horror taking over my plain expression.
We were drinking. I don’t know what made me go to the bar and take the alcohol. But I did. Maybe I was looking for a way to cheer her up, cheer us both up because the conversation was getting way too dismal.
She was gulping the wine down like it were pumpkin juice.
I did too.
My head had been killing me after the seven bottles of firewhisky I had.
We drank more.
Then my mind went a bit blank…
She took the bottle from my grasp and finished the lot of it.
I kissed her collar, near her breasts, wine over my lips. Why?
Madness? Boredom? Curiosity?
Then the sheets were wet with the wine, spilling all over the place.
Our lips met.
I said, “Ron who?” I think, in answer to a question I cannot remember. Shouldn’t be hard enough to guess though.
We were naked. Granger and I were in the Leaky Cauldron, upstairs, in a bed, together, naked.
Then we were having sex. Not that hippy-dippy soft shit people call ‘making love’. No…we were having sex…
Shit. Shit shit shit.
The Leaky Cauldron.
My body was shaking, literally, shaking at the prospect of what I had done. Both hands were placed over my mouth as I tried to contemplate what would happen next. Could I sneak out before she got up and pretend that nothing had happened? People had one night stands all of the time, but this was completely unutterable. I mean, it was Granger…
My trousers were in a messy pile by the door and other things were scattered around it too; a petite black cardigan, a shattered wine bottle with trickling wine dripping from its mouth, my belt was on the side next to the window and the rest of our belongings were wrapped in the bed sheets.
Shit I thought again.
I was in trouble now. Did she do this because she wanted to? Was this part of some plan? What if she thought that I had tricked her, forced her? I was breaking out in a sweat just at the thought of it.
Maybe I should have Disapparated then and there without my clothes before she stirred. But I needed my wand… Where the hell was it?
I crept around to the bed, tripping over my shoes; she didn’t wake. I sighed gratefully. Bending down, I stepped into my trousers and pulled them up. Next, I walked to the other side of the bed to lift my belt quietly and pull it through my trousers. While bent on the ground, looking for the rest of my things, there was a shuffling noise and the mattress creaked noisily.
She was awake. What the hell would I say? What would she say? What would she do?
Forcing my body to stay still was never more difficult than in that moment. My muscles ached as I tried to ignore the urge to face her.
My breathing was heavy once I saw her sit up. I could see from her head to her nose. Her brown eyes darted around the room nervously as she remembered where she was. She even closed her eyes and reopened them in a lame attempt to check if this was reality. And madly, it was. Her hand went through her rough brown hair and she looked around at the mess we had made.
There was nothing else for it; I stood and looked at her. She was wrapped in the sheets, still in the nude, her hair askew and her eyes red.
Granger gasped and stared at me, and then slowly took in our surroundings and eventually, the memories came back to her - the good ones I hope. Although, what I thought was good may well have been the worst thing she had ever done in her life. She probably always wanted to please her precious Potter and Weasley but when was she ever going to do anything for herself?
Her mouth had fallen open and it quivered as if she wanted to say something, but could not put her shock into words.
The right words never seemed to come to me either, so I muttered instead, “I bet we never thought this would happen this time yesterday.”
Her face went an angry red as she hopped to the side of the large bed, feet apart ready to prance. Opposite her, I swallowed hard and thought carefully.
Then I stepped forward.
“You stay away from me!” Her voice was hoarse and cracked as she pointed her long finger in my direction.
“What? I didn’t force you to do anything. If my memory serves me correctly, you were equally to blame for what happened. You were equally as…enthusiastic…” And that she was. Was it not her smiling and laughing all the way through, because it sure wasn’t me. I was too drunk to do anything but focus on the task in hand.
She grunted, angry that I was right - once again. “Shut up.”
Granger was struggling to pull on her dress without having unfastening it. I had to admit, I wanted to laugh, but held it in for the sake of the severity of the situation we had found ourselves in.
“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” I said furiously. “You didn’t do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“So you didn’t plan this?” she asked accusatorily.
“No way,” I said defensively. “Do you really think I wanted to sleep with you?” I laughed but the sound didn’t seem comfortable in my throat.
She ignored me. “I wouldn’t put it past you.” She shuddered.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it. I’ve got to say, for a mudblood, you were quite entertaining.” Granger threw me an extremely filth look. “You can’t deny that it was great. You probably remember more of it than I do.”
“No …” her mouth quivered. “I don’t.”
“Liar,” I spat. “You weren’t half as drunk as I was and I remember enough to know that it wasn’t terrible.”
“If it was with you, it was terrible.”
“That’s harsh considering I’m the reason you had the night of your life.”
“It was not -”
“That’s not what you thought at the time. You were loving it. Tell me, was I better than Weasley?”
God, she looked as if she was going to cry. She closed her eyes and breathed.
Clearing her throat, she muttered, “Can we just pretend this didn’t happen?”
“Suits me just fine,” I said. We both knew that we could never forget this momentous occasion. How often was it that enemies became lovers?
She stared at me carefully and for a moment, it looked as though she was confused. “Would it suit you? You seem…you seem calmer than I thought you would be.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
Granger made her way over to the bed and I followed. We began sifting through the mess on top of it to find our things. I pushed aside the bed linen and two pint glasses fell to the ground and her wand. It rolled underneath the bed and she dived after it, while I continued my search. Underneath the pillow, I found my shirt and within it, her black lacy bra. I pulled it out and as she surfaced, she exclaimed in horror.
“Give me that!”She grabbed it from me and kept it clenched between her fingertips.
“This doesn’t happen to you often, does it?” She was so stressed out that I had to point out what I thought was obvious. She was so angry at me it was almost laughable. What had I done besides participate in something she had wanted? She could have easily pushed me away or left, but she didn’t. Yet I did not have the guts to say this to her. Not now.
“How did you guess?” she shot at me vehemently. My wand was wedged beside the headboard and I pull it out and shoved it into my pocket.
Granger shoved on her flat black shoes, scooped up her cardigan and bolted out of the door. I went after her, down the deserted corridor where the sunlight diving through the open window half-blinded me.
“Wait!” Even I didn’t know why I was following her. My mind did not seem to be functioning right since we did it. She looked at me, still angry. Although, the light going across her face made her look kind of angelic. “What do we do now? What do we tell people?”
I wasn’t panicking, more nervous than anything.
Granger pointed at me; she looked scared. “We tell people nothing.” She started down the staircase and into the pub and I followed with my shirt in my hand and feet bare. “If anybody asks what you were doing last night, lie. Say you just came here for a drink. Alone.”
What that the best that she could come up with? I thought she was supposed to be smart!
She was walking through the near-empty tables and chairs. People drinking cups of tea and eating toast looked over at us but I just ignored them. I had only eyes for her - worried ones. It was not that I minded sleeping with her (which is a surprise in and of itself!), it was just that I would have preferred it if no one found out about it. A fair request, one which I know she was thinking of too.
“People were here last night, you know,” I mentioned. “People will have seen us.”
“Well, it can’t have been anyone we know,” she said, still not looking at me. How the hell did she know? She had blazed into the pub without even looking sideways.
“So, I guess we’re not going to talk about this then? Not going to sort out a story?” I was just as anxious as she was. What if people found out? I was more worried for her than myself. I could lie, or tell the truth and brag to hide my feelings. But she couldn’t do anything of the sort. I would get so much hassle from Potter and Weasley and I could not be bothered to endure those arguments.
“Just lie,” she whispered. “Past years have taught me that you’re good at that.”
Granger rushed out of the back door and was opening up the passage into Diagon Alley when I turned back towards the staircase. A strange grey-haired lady peered over at me curiously as I went upstairs and to the room.
Leaving Room Six a mess and without any gold for the keeper, I gathered my things and Disapparated back home.
The Manor was empty when I apparated in, as I fully expected and everything was in its place. Everything was just that same as I had left it, as if nothing had happened just hours ago.
My mind could not get over it. Hermione Granger … Big-toothed, bookworm Granger whom I had spent countless hours torturing in Hogwarts had spent the night with me. It was funny how just one turn of events made you re-evaluate your entire existence. The hilarious part was that at the time, it did not matter to me that it was her. Something else was ruling my head back then and I can’t say that I complained.
I was upset. But this was only because I could not fathom why I enjoyed it so much. It would be easier if I hated it, because I hated her. Yet due to one event, that didn’t seem to be the case anymore.
She became more and more attractive to me when we exchanged brief words this morning. Her denial was delightful. And with that small conversation, her dirty blood and our past experiences didn’t seem to matter anymore. She was no longer Mudblood Granger. She had miraculously turned into Hermione Granger, the girl I had spent the night with - and who I’d happily spend the night with again.
A smile creeping on my face, I walked down the staircase.
The more I went over the sexual escapade of the previous night, the more I seemed to be confused. Did we use protection or did I forget something? I stood in my kitchen contemplating the idea of Granger having my child. That would be it. I would officially be cast away, no longer in a prestigious pureblood family. We would produce a halfblood brat that I would never hear about. I suppose that was all the better. But something in my head could not let it go. If Granger got pregnant because of our carelessness, would she even tell me?
But surely the chances of that were a million to one …
Last night was…there were no words for it. Unexpected yet amazingly glorifying? Although my mind did not remember the details, I remember how I felt. There was no denying that it was great. Neither one of us pushed the other, each hand touched each body part delicately. Each kiss was filled with passion, excitement, not the hatred which had filled our lives with for the past seven years. It was amazing how all of those moments seemed to fly away and become nothing but ancient history when she was near me. And what was strangest of all was that not once did she mention our relationship. I was the bully, she was the victim. Now we were lovers. In some way. This one time had us bound for life. This one experience could neither be reversed nor erased and I was glad it couldn’t. It certainly did not seem as though it were her first time, although I would not have been surprised. I would have been lying if I said I hoped it never happened again because she certainly exceeded my expectations. Pansy Parkinson had nothing on Hermione Granger.
Rather than cooking breakfast, I sat in a hard wooden chair with strange thoughts circulating my head:
I had spent the night with Hermione Granger.
But you didn’t like it, though, Draco. You despise her, remember?
I didn’t like it. I loved it. Best time I ever had, even if she is a mudblood.
There you go again. She’s a mudblood. You said it yourself. You hate mudbloods.
Do I? Do I really? It was my parents who disliked their kind. I just do as they do. But now they’re not here.
Not here to see you shack up with a mudblood. Not here to see you make a fool of yourself with the girl you hate most.
Pansy Parkinson is the girl I hate most. That stupid girl would do absolutely anything if it meant that I would agree to marry her. She’s a complete psychopath.
But she’s a pureblood. You should marry a girl like her.
I’d rather not.
But you’d rather Hermione Granger? Scum of the earth Hermione Granger who has muggle parents?
What the hell is wrong with you? You spend one night with her and now, all of a sudden, it’s like you’re in love with her!
I’m not in love with her.
Yes, you are. You practically just said you wanted to marry her.
Did I just say that?
Yes. Well, actually, you thought it. And thinking is bad. Especially for you, Draco. You get all of these crazy ideas.
Ideas like telling the Daily Prophet about our night together?
Why not? She’d have to come to me. She’d have to leave Pathetic Weasley and maybe -
It won’t happen.
You’re right. I’m right. She won’t come. At least not straightaway.
I think you need a holiday.
You’re right. I’ll tell the papers and then go for a few weeks. Give her time to brood over me, to miss me.
Can’t you just skip telling the Prophet?
No can do.
Running upstairs, I pulled on some shoes, planning to persuade the nosy old lady to tell Bernie Swattle about Hermione and I. I had the means and the money to do so. I Disapparated, forgetting that having full-blown conversations with yourself was a sign of complete and utter madness.
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