A/N: I wanted to try something from the first person perspective, and had this idea in the back of my head since I hit it just now... I've read several fanfictions that have Draco showing up at Hermione's house needing help, but less that she shows up at his.

I knew the second I had the first drink that I was going to end up doing something monumentally stupid by the end of the night. I thought I might end up falling down some stairs and chipping a tooth, or throwing up a kidney. My worst case scenario was passing out at the bar and waking up when they threw me out on the street. What actually happened was worse. Much much worse.


I'm pretty sure it was my head that woke me up. It was putting so much work into hurting and I wasn't even awake to appreciate the excruciating pain, which must have made it angry, so it hurt even more out of spite.

"Owwwww," I groaned as I struggled to sit up. I gave that up pretty quick – it hurt too much. Staying in bed until someone found me or I died seemed like the best plan at the moment. If only the sun streaming in the giant windows would go away.

I glared at the offending windows. Who even needed windows that big? They were floor to ceiling and taking up almost the whole wall. Wait a minute... Where had I ever been with windows like that? Come to think of it – where was I?

I sat up quickly and looked around, trying to remember where I was. I held my head as it got impatient that I wasn't paying enough attention to it again.

Okay. First I needed to get to the windows and look outside to try and figure out where I was, then I needed a hangover potion – really bad. I made a valiant attempt to get up, but was foiled again when whatever I had drank last night tried to escape. I fell back down to the pillows and pulled a blanket over my head – maybe if I ignored everything, it would all go away and I'd wake up in my own bed where I belonged.

"I see you're up. Would you care to explain why you were banging on my door in the middle of the night, completely drunk," asked a voice I couldn't see the owner of because I was still hiding under the covers. It was a nice voice; it was deep pitched, so it didn't hurt my head, it was also oddly familiar, but I couldn't seem to place it. "Granger, I know you're up, I heard your groaning," the voice said again, followed by a hand shaking me.

"Go 'way," I whined at it, not capable of full sentences at the moment. It was an annoyingly persistent voice.

"If you get out of the bed, I'll give you the hangover potion I have here." An annoyingly persistent voice that was my new best friend. I hesitantly pulled back the covers and peeked out at the person looming over me.

"Malfoy?" I asked in disbelief, staring at the blond standing over me. My head hurt way too much to process why he was in my room - well... the room that I was currently staying in.

All right, I could deal with this. My childhood nemesis just turned up midway through the worst hangover of my life. Why had I even drunk that much last night? I never did anything like that...

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks; I'd been drinking last night because of Ron, my so called husband. Six months! It took him six months of marriage before he cheated on me! I was angry and depressed all over again as I remembered the events of last night.

"Hermione, wait!" Ron shouted after me as I ran from the sight of him and another woman on the couch in our home. "Hermione, don't be a coward about this! We need to talk."

That one stopped me. Furious, I turned around to face him. "Listen to me Ronald Weasley, I will not be that wife who sits at home while her husband is out with other women and pretends nothing is wrong!" I poked him in the chest a few times to prove my point.

"Hermione, we're not working out and we both know it," he tried, reaching as if to hug me.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled as I jumped out of his reach. "No, you knew it; I never got the message apparently!" Now the tears were starting, I could feel them. I had been under the impression we were having a bit of a rough patch, not that we were over and both in denial like my husband had apparently been thinking.

"Don't cry, you knew this was coming."

I stared at him in disbelief. "I did NOT know this was coming! I thought if you were having doubts about us you'd try talking to me about this first, not cheating on me with the first slag that'll hop into bed with you!" I yelled, jumping out of his reach again as he took a step towards me. I gave him one last hurt look before I apparated away to the nearest bar.

Malfoy was backing away from me with a horrified expression. "You're not going to start crying are you?" I shook my head, sniffing and wiping the tears that had started to form in my eyes. He looked very relieved. "Good. I got enough of your whining last night."

"Why am I even here?" I asked; confused as to how the bar I had been in turned into Malfoy's house. I thought about it for a second, wondering if I even knew where Malfoy lived, I had a vague recollection of an article in The Daily Prophet that said something about him disappearing, and was pretty sure it was just his parents that were living in the manor, so where was I?

"You're in this room because you were banging on my door in the middle of the night and it was easier to put you in a spare bedroom than it was to shove you out the door – you kept grabbing on to the doorframe when I tried."

"Is this your house?" I wasn't surprised that he had tried to shove me back out the door; we weren't exactly close or anything, I probably would have done the same if the situation had been reversed.

He rolled his eyes at me. "Of course this is my house Granger. What I want to know is how you found it."

I tilted my head at him, immediately regretting it as it started to pound again. I asked my question with my face in my hands, trying to stifle the ache. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the bar you were drinking at was somewhere in London, right?" I nodded; of course I was drinking in London. "Well, you're not in London anymore; you're on a private island in the middle of the ocean."

I was way too hung-over for this crap, instead of answering; I leaned over the edge of the bed and threw up. "Owww," I groaned, the motion of leaning over had hurt my head.

Malfoy looked disgusted. "Granger, I'm only giving you this so you don't throw up on my floor again, not because I care that you're feeling sick." He clarified as he handed me a hangover potion he pulled out of his pocket.

I took it gratefully and gulped it down; sighing in relief as my headache disappeared, taking all my other symptoms with it. Good riddance, now I could think. I vanished the mess I had made on the floor, and thought about what he had said.

"I'm... where?"

"In the middle of the ocean on a private island, thousands of kilometres away from anyone you know. There's no way you've been here before, so how the hell did you manage to apparate to my front door?"

I frowned... So I was literally trapped on a deserted island with Draco Malfoy? Nope, not thinking about that yet, maybe when I got home I'd ponder it. "So how do I get home?"

He gave me a look like I was a moron. "You don't. I'm here under house arrest, no one can apparate out and they shouldn't be able to apparate in."

Great, I was stuck here.