Notes: Slight AU, no Voldemort or war or such. 7th Year at Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione as Head Boy and Girl


Keep Me Company

Hermione told her friends good-night as she left the Gryffindor common room and headed towards her own quarters. She'd spent the better half of her night listening to Ron and Harry curse the Slytherin Quidditch team for playing dirty. She had to admit, their beaters had been a bit overly aggressive. But she could only take so much talk about bludgers and quaffles before being completely bored senseless so she'd politely excused herself.

Usually she hated going back to her own common room. Draco Malfoy had not exactly been her dream Head Boy to get stuck with all year. But tonight she expected him to be with the other Slytherins, getting drunk as they tended to do after winning a game. She'd heard him stumble to his room at odd hours of the morning on more than one occasion. How he'd ever even managed to make Head Boy was a mystery to her.

She entered through the portrait hole, not at all surprised to find the common room empty with no sign of the pesky blonde anywhere. Of this she was most relieved, she didn't think she could handle listening to his gloating about the serpentine win. She figured she had some time before he returned and such decided to settle down by the fire and read before going off to sleep. And maybe if she was really lucky he'd never make it back and pass out somewhere in the corridors. It was rather mean of her to think such things but she refused to have any sympathy for the arrogant pureblood.

It was a battered copy of Advanced Rune Translations that kept her company as she made herself comfortable against the plush purple pillows. She'd taken it out of the library earlier that day and had been eager to start it ever since. It immediately sucked her I as she read about old transcripts and about the trials of translating them into modern language. It was all very interesting to the bushy-haired Gryffindor, even though most people would find it excessively dull. Time passes quite quickly while she was engrossed in the tome and it wasn't until she reached the sixth exceptionally long chapter that her concentration was broken. This was caused by none other than the predictably drunk Slytherin prince. He climbed indelicately through the portrait hole, his usually perfect platinum hair mussed and his grey eyes looking bloodshot.

Hermione's head snapped up at the distraction and she had to push back a groan of annoyance as the portrait swung closed behind Draco. Sure she'd gotten rather used to being alone him, but that certainly didn't mean she enjoyed it. She usually tried to avoid any interaction with him at all; some days she'd go without ever laying eyes on him except for in class. Those were what she considered to be good days.

"Granger! That you?" he said. His words were not slurred as the speech of drunks usually is, but they definitely lacked his usual arrogant elegance. He gripped the wall for support and stared at her with squinted eyes like he couldn't see straight. He probably couldn't.

"Who else would it be?" she snapped, slamming her book shut. His arrival declared that it was time for bed where she could lock the door and pretend the Slytherin didn't exist.

"Someone's touchy," he said with sneer, stumbling forward like he was going to sit next to her. Hermione wasn't going to have any of that and she quickly stood, making for her room.

"Hey, where are you going?" he demanded, collapsing on the couch where she'd sat only moments before.

"To bed, as should you," she replied sternly.

He let out a huff, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the couch. "You're such a bloody saint, you know that Granger? Fucking saint!"

"Better than being a stuck-up ferret!" she retorted hotly. She knew it wasn't wise to argue with him, especially not while he was so intoxicated, but she stayed rooted to her spot regardless. She had a morbid interest of the inner-workings of his brain that she hated to admit to. She disliked Draco Malfoy intensely, but she couldn't help but feel the human urge to understand him. Not that understanding would ever change her feelings for him. He was an insufferable git no matter what.

"I'm not… not…" Draco started rubbing his temples, trying to soothe the pounding headache he most likely had. "What were we talking about again?"

Hermione sighed. "Just go to bed Malfoy. You're drunk, you should sleep."

"Don't tell me what to do!" he said, attempting to scowl at her threateningly. She rolled her eyes, he was ridiculous!

"Whatever, do what you want I hope you wake up with a painful hangover." She started to retreat towards her bedroom, cursing the grey-eyed boy under her breath.

"Get back here Granger!" he demanded, tripping over his words in a most uncouth way.

"Why?" she said, hand on the doorknob to her room. "So you can insult me some more?"

He scrunched up his nose in contemplation and Hermione couldn't help but notice the adorable way his eyebrows furrowed when he did so.

"I don't want to insult you," he said, putting emphasis on every word like a young child sounding out their syllables.

"Then what do you want Malfoy?" she asked, exasperated and wanting nothing more than to sink into sweet sleep, pushing all thoughts of him from her mind. Sometimes she'd wished she had taken up Parvati's offer to sleep in her old dorm with the other Gryffindor girls in her year.

"I'm not tired," he slurred slightly. "Keep me company."

Hermione quirked a brow inquisitively. "You want me to keep you company?"

"That's what I said isn't it?" she snapped rather loudly, immediately cradling his head in his hands after. He's apparently made his own headache worse. The brunette girl wasn't sure what possessed her to move back towards him and take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, but that's what she did. She set the book she'd been reading down on the table and curled her knees up close to her chest, keeping her distance from the Slytherin.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He was smirking at her in a most disconcerting way. He shouldn't be able to be so devilishly handsome while completely trashed. She averted her eyes away from him, extremely uncomfortable with the effect he was having on her tonight.

She glowered at him while silently reprimanding herself. She shouldn't have sat down, she shouldn't have done what he'd asked. Right now she could be snug in her bed, well on her way to dreamland, but instead she was keeping the Slytherin Prince company while he was utterly cocked.

"You're hot when you're angry," he said suddenly and Hermione felt her jaw drop.

"Wha-what?" she sputtered, looking completely horrified at being complimented by Draco Malfoy.

"Don't talk Granger, you're ruining the moment."

She threw her hands up in annoyance, coming to her feet. "You're nothing but a pompous git!" she cried, storming past him.

She felt his hand curl around her wrist, preventing her from getting very far. She tugged, trying to free herself but to no avail. He was pretty strong for being drunk.

"Let go Malfoy," she seethed, her eyes shooting daggers at him. He gave her a lazy grin as he pulled her down so that she was sprawled most unlady-like across him.

"I assure you Granger, I am not little," he growled.

She felt a blush rise in her cheeks at that. "How dare you!" She struggled to get up but his arms snaked around her waist, keeping her locked against him. She was powerless to fight him off and she knew it. The feel of his warmth against her sent delicious chills up her spine that she tried to squash instantly. Her reaction had not escaped Draco's notice, to her mortification.

"Getting turned on Granger?" he asked, that smirk still plastered to his face. She slapped him then, right across that oh-so-gorgeous face and feeling rather satisfied as she did so. He looked up at her, his gaze filled with shock and something else she couldn't quite place. And then he retaliated, quickly pinning her hands together and flipping her over so that he was above her, pressing her back into the soft cushions. She let out a small gasp of surprise as he leaned down, roughly capturing his lips with her own. She struggled against his hold, not believing that this could possibly be happening. Slytherin's most arrogant, pureblooded prat was kissing her.

She felt his tongue run across her lower lip and she let out an involuntary moan as her mouth her mouth opened, giving full access. He explored the inside of her, their tongues dancing together. He tasted like firewhiskey; it felt almost as if the hot substance was being poured directly into her mouth, coming alive and sliding against her tongue and lips in a most erotic way.

His body came down from where it had hovered above her, pressing against her own form and setting her skin on fire. She arched her back up in pleasure from the contact as his mouth ate at his.

She shouldn't be doing this. She knew that. He was drunk. Hell, he was passed drunk. He probably wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. But none of that seemed to matter as the blonde rubbed sinfully against her.

He broke the kiss then, gazing down at her flushed face. Her lips were swollen and full, just begging to be kissed again. He groaned. Which only made the Gryffindor's body react to him more.

"Draco," she whispered looking up at him with wide eyes.

She didn't want him to stop. It was so wrong of her to be thinking and she shouldn't want him the way she did. Not long ago she'd wanted to do nothing but punch him. But she'd never experienced these feeling before. And they were wonderful feelings.

"See Granger, my company isn't so bad, is it?" He had a lopsided grin on his face, filled with his usual smugness as well as his own desire.

"Don't talk Malfoy, you're ruining the moment," she breathed as she pressed her lips to his again, a silent plea in the way her tongue slid into his mouth. He pressed harder against her, happy to comply.


A/N: Drop a review, tell me what you think. This is my first time writing for these two but they're my FAVOURITE HP pairing by far.