Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling
Love, Sex, and a Bottle of Vodka
Hermione didn't want the night to end. She sipped whatever was in her glass and giggled, it was making her feel tipsy. The lights in the club were making her dizzy and she wanted to dance it off. She grabbed her friend's hand and dragged her down to the dance floor. It was so packed Hermione kept bumping into people and she could smell their sweat. It smelled salty and sweet, dangerously close.
It was an unexpected talent but Hermione had discovered early that summer when a muggle friend had dragged her out to a club, that dancing was one of her redeeming qualities. It was something she was good at without having to try. And Hermione also discovered that she liked dancing, a lot. She let herself go and just started to dance. She was shaking her head, really getting into it, the lights were spinning and so was her head.
"I'm thirsty," shouted her friend over the music. Hermione opened her eyes, her vision blurry. "I'm getting something to drink, coming?" Hermione shook her head no and closed her eyes again. These late night outings. Hermione found she lived for them. Dancing was like her drug and she needed it badly. She felt herself drowning in the music. Hermione turned around and found herself face to face with a long, lanky boy. He was fair-haired and too familiar. But it can't be him, Hermione reasoned to herself. What would he be doing in the muggle world? The boy also looked surprised to see her and but a smirk spread across his face. He put his arms around her and Hermione let herself be pulled. She danced with him and he seemed to be impressed with how well she could dance.
"Do I know you?" asked Hermione.
"Only too well." Maybe it was her drink but something made Hermione go against all her instincts and pull him towards the drink bar. Hermione's eyesight was still blurry and the boy's hair in the light made it look like a halo. There was something extremely ethereal at him and as they passed, people, boys and girls alike, slid a glance at him.
"Who are you?" asked Hermione. Her mind felt fuzzy.
"I can't believe you don't remember me, Granger." Being referred to by her last name started to ring a bell in the back of her head. Then, the notion of who it is disappeared and all she remembered was that this boy was someone she did know. But was it someone she could trust?
"You look nice today," said the boy, strangely formal. Hermione threw back her head and let her hair, now long, reaching almost her back in curls, hang.
"I don't look this nice always?" she asked, teasingly. The boy looked as if he was going to answer when she leaned forward and kissed him. Just a flirt kiss, nothing really, but the boy looked extremely surprised. So she leaned forward and did it again. Hermione, out of school, really wasn't the same bookworm she was at Hogwarts. And she liked it. Keep up with studies during the school year, who cares in the summer? This time, he leaned into the kiss and whispered something. Hermione strained to hear and realized that he was whispering her name into her ear, her hair, as the music rocked on...
Hermione woke up to find herself in an unknown apartment. It was spacious, beautiful, and lived in. Suddenly, her blood ran cold. What happened? Why hadn't her friend stopped her from going home with a stranger? Did anything happen? Hermione realized that she was lying on a couch, her dance clothes wrinkled from sleeping in them. Huh, mused Hermione. At least I didn't do anything I would regret. I guess I did keep some of my senses, but then...what the hell am I doing here? She saw someone lying on the ground, arms sprawled. Hermione frowned and looked closer.
Oh My God, she thought, frantically. Those fair eyebrows, soft hair, lips naturally curved, strong nose...god, who else could it be but Draco?
Oh My God, thought Hermione again. I woke up in Malfoy's apartment...