A/N: Hello loves! This piece is ridiculous, just a forewarning. A good friend, SirensandSeers, dared me to write a one-shot based on one of Tom Felton's recent Instagram posts, and so here we are. I hope you enjoy this odd little one shot. Happy (early) Valentine's Day!

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Stumbling footsteps awoke Hermione from a very pleasant dream about a certain blond wizard she was none too happy with at the moment. Sleep-heavy eyes slowly adjusted to the low light of her flat, taking in the blue screen of the telly that had finally stopped playing the DVD she had been watching to distract herself from her woes—Pretty in Pink to tangentially fit the Valentine's Day colour scheme. At some point, she'd dropped her bowl of popcorn onto the floor, and she swallowed an exasperated sigh.

She sat up on the couch after another crash from her kitchen, pulling her wand out of the holster she'd tailored into her jeans. She wasn't too worried about the intruder—her apartment was warded so that only those who had been invited in could enter. However, she was curious about who would be there at—she squinted at the clock on the wall—three bloody o'clock in the Merlin forsaken morning the day after Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day. She wasn't normally one to celebrate a holiday created solely to exploit love for commercial revenue, but she supposed there was something novel about spending the day with people she cared about. Or—she reasoned—there would be something novel about spending the day with people she cared about had they not forgotten.

She and Draco had been together for two years, nearly three, and he'd forgotten Valentine's Day each year. Well, the first two years he'd had a good excuse: work had gotten in the way. This year, though, he'd announced that he had plans to meet Harry, recently split from Ginny, at the pub.

She had told herself she wouldn't be upset—she should be happy that her boyfriend and best friend were getting along so well after years of animosity—but she had looked forward to a Valentine's Day that was just about them. But, like usual, even her best-laid plans were foiled by Harry Potter.

She stood, slowly shaking the sleep from her limbs before following the crashes and their accompanying giggles. Slurred voices echoed around the corner in poor attempts at whispers. She couldn't help the grin on her face when she rounded the corner and peered into her pantry.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy sat in a tangled heap on the floor, each one shushing the other as they attempted to stand up only to collapse again and again. After another failed attempt that left the boys breathless in laughter, a small chuckle escaped her, and Draco whirled his head to look at her.

He froze—or she thought that's what he had attempted to do in his inebriated state. As it was, he managed only to look like a kid who had just stepped off a very rapidly moving roundabout. He swayed side to side as he whispered frantically to Harry. "Potter, she's in the doorway. What's the chance that she's seen us?"

The other man scoffed indelicately. "She's likely been there for a while, you dolt." Harry turned a too-wide grin on her. "Hey, 'Mione. We're—" he hiccupped "—drunk."

A wide smile lit up her face when she saw the sheer panic in Draco's eyes. He clapped his free hand over her best friend's mouth. "Potter, shut it. I'm already in deep enough shite without your help. Maybe if we sit still enough, she'll forget we're here," he hissed.

Mirth bubbled in her stomach. "She's right here, and you're about to be in even more shite if you don't tell me why you've shown up at my flat at three in the bloody morning pissed out of your mind."

Draco had the decency to look chagrined, but Harry pried Draco's hand off his mouth and spoke for the both of them. "Draco came 'round to mine to help me drink off Ginny, but he forgot it was Valentine's Day. I didn't mean to ruin the day." He looked contrite and oddly sincere for as drunk as he was. "Figured I'd be a good mate and bring the poor sod back to plead his case."

Draco groaned and leaned back against the pantry wall cradling—was that toilet paper?

She took pity on them. "And what's the case?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer but was silenced when Draco threw one of the rolls of toilet paper at his head. "Shut your bloody mouth, Potter, or I'll conveniently forget that we're friends now." The slur in his voice made the word fwiends, and Hermione swallowed her laughter. He fixed a serious gaze on her. "My case is that I'm a shite, and you're pretty."

His statement startled a laugh out of her, and he looked wounded. "I'm not sure I'm following."

He staggered to his feet, still cradling the rolls of toilet paper and lifting a case of Muggle beer—Harry's favorite—in front of him. "Harry said I needed to tell you I'm sorry for, y'know, leaving you alone on Valentine's Day and that I'm dumb and—what was the rest of it, Potter?"

Harry had slid down the floor and was resting with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his face, so his words came out muffled. Draco crouched beside him in a comical imitation of a frog and elbowed one of Harry's hands away from his face. It really was a miracle how graceful he was when drunk and with an armful of alcohol and toiletries. He stared expectantly at Harry until the other man answered. "You're a shite for ditching her to be with me on the love day, and she can do better than you. Then you're supposed to beg for another chance."

Draco nodded along with everything, but he peered seriously back at the other man. "What's the beer for?"

"Every woman needs a little bubbly on Valentine's Day." Harry's half-hearted finger guns and wink about sent Hermione into a fit. She had to bite her lip to avoid laughing. When Draco stood and peered back at her, she lifted her gaze from Harry.

"And what is the toilet paper for?"

Draco grinned proudly back at her. "Harry told me I needed to make a big speech about wanting to be the man to wipe your tears, but you've always said that you preferred words to action." He tried to hold up the beer and toilet paper so she could observe his offerings.

"I'm telling you: it's the perfect Valentine's gift, yeah? It shows my—" he wiggled his fingers at her in a poor imitation of spirit fingers and cursed when he dropped one of the rolls of toilet paper. "—dedication to feeling emotion for you. That's what you said, right Potter? Potter?" Harry had fallen asleep next to him on the floor, soft snores leaving his lips. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something about useless gits. When he looked back at Hermione, her heart fluttered at his earnest expression. "Am I forgiven?" He pouted shamelessly.

With a sigh, she stooped to pick up the lost rolls of toilet paper. She gave him a lopsided grin. "You're forgiven; you didn't even need to bring an offering, but at least now we won't have to restock for a while."

Draco grinned toothily up at her, and she stepped up to him, sweeping a lock of his blond hair off his forehead. She could smell the liquor on his breath when he leaned in and pecked a kiss on her cheek. "You know I love you, right?"

Her heart never failed to clench at those words. "I love you too, you massive pain in my arse. Let's get you to bed and get a pain potion in you so I don't have to listen to your complaining in the morning."

"Deal." He grinned and kicked Harry's foot. "What about the great spectacled one?"

Hermione snorted. "His punishment for dragging your drunk arses here in the middle of the night is to sleep on the floor of the pantry. A crick in the neck and a sore back will serve him well."

A mischievous glint lit up the blond's eyes. "You would make a fine Slytherin, my dear."