Draco adored Las Vegas. The bright lights, high rollers and fast women. It was bloody heaven compared that hellhole he once called home. He couldn't be in Malfoy Manor without hearing the screams caused by that crazy half-blood psycho.

But Vegas. Vegas was explosive, indulgent. He leaned against the wall by the blackjack tables in his ten-thousand dollar suit, swirling the whisky in his hand. Across the room, in a candy apple red sequined dress, the best legs he'd seen in his life were walking toward him. His eyes followed the curve of her calf to her knee past the hem of her dress up her body until-

"Granger?" he spat, mortified he'd just been checking out Hogwarts resident bookworm, Hermione Granger, Potter's best friend and one of the many screams in that haunted manor of his.

"Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes widened.

He smirked, covering the flash of memories of what Bellatrix had done to her. If he wanted to survive, he couldn't think about those things. He had to shut it off. "Fancy seeing you here."

"It's stranger that you're here. Aren't your afraid they're going to spill their muggle juice on you?" She tucked a smooth curl behind her ear. When did she get so seductive?

Trying to keep that veneer of always-cool-Malfoy, Draco nodded at the cocktail waitress in her skin tight green mini skirt. "She can spill whatever she wants on me."

"You're disgusting." Hermione huffed.

"I prefer charming."

With a sigh, she spun on her black high heel. "Good bye, Malfoy."

He grabbed her arm, not ready to let this fun possibility go just yet. Even after the last five years he still wanted to drive that Gryffindor mad. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a job as a dancer in one of the shows."

"I would pay to see that."

She sighed, her shoulder slumping. "A friend's wedding."

"I thought this was where muggles got married when they were drunk or didn't want anyone to know. Or, you know, if they wanted their alcohol to light up?" Draco nodded at plastic souvenir cup flashing green and blue. He really hoped people didn't go home, sit in their parlor and drink out of those things. Wasn't that the whole rationale behind 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas'?

"What can I say she's eccentric," Hermione replied.

There was only one person Draco knew of who could make Hermione Granger say eccentric like that: Hogwarts resident nut case.

"Merlin, it's Luna Lovegood. Who's crazy enough to marry that crackpot?"

"She's not a-" Hermione pursed her lips and crashed down at the old slot machine near where Draco stood. "Ron Weasley."

"Wasn't he your boyfriend?"

By the way Hermione's eyes narrowed, Draco knew he remembered correctly. He loved a jealous girl in search of a self-esteem boost. Who better to give it than him? And the fact it was Potter's little sidekick made it that much sweeter.

"Hey miss, can you do me a favor?" He smiled at the cocktail waitress and she swept over quickly.

"I'll do anything you want." The waitress winked her over-shadowed eye, but Draco wasn't in for that easy of a night. Besides, he didn't carry on with the staff. Hermione made a subtle gagging noise.

"Get her whatever she wants." Draco nodded toward Hermione.

"Oh," grumbled the waitress.

Hermione sat up straight, scorching the waitress with that terrifying glare Draco had been on the receiving end of a few too many times. "Scotch on the rocks."

That's my kind of a woman's drink.

Scowling, the waitress scurried off.

"I took you for a daiquiri drinker," he said, sitting down at the slot machine beside her.

"When I drink, I want to drink. I don't like when things pretend to be something they're not."

Draco leaned closer, smelling her rose perfume. "Good to know."

The waitress brought the scotch and everything went downhill after that.

With a smirk on Draco's face, he leaned in. "Ron's an idiot."

Hermione rolled her eyes, tumbling forward a bit. "Oh, shut it Malfoy."

"Who in their bloody right mind picks Luna Lovegood over you?"

"What are you saying, Malfoy?"

With a quick snap of courage, he laid his hand on her knee. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. "You want to get out of here?"

Hermione nodded and that was all the permission Draco Malfoy was going to get and all he needed.

Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and they rushed through the casino to the elevators, the bright lights blurring in a drunken haze as they passed. He dragged her into a service elevator and pushed a few of the glowing buttons.

"I don't think we're allowed here," said Hermione.

"We're allowed anywhere we want, Granger."

"How do you figure that?" She stumbled forward as the elevator stopped, tripping into Draco. He caught her, two hands on her waist, his heart jumping.

"I own the casino," Draco breathed.

They stepped onto the roof of the casino. Las Vegas was a million lights, like stars fallen to earth and caught in the trees and on the building eaves.

Hermione let out a long breath as she closed the distance between her and the edge of the roof. Draco rushed up to make sure she didn't go too far. Last thing he needed was someone to fall off the roof of his building. Bad for business – not to mention Potter would kill him in his sleep. And, if he was being honest, he didn't really want Hermione to fall.

"Trying to impress me, Malfoy?"

"Is it working?" he asked as her eyes sparked with the array of light.

"Not even a little." She laughed. Draco could tell she wasn't saying the whole truth as she looked thoughtfully over the view, leaning on the railing. Draco came up beside her.

"He was supposed to marry me, you know?" said Hermione. "We talked about it. All the time. About our kids and our house and jobs. Well his job. We just fought all the time. Like every second. About every thing. It was exhausting."

"So you're not upset he's marry Loony?"

One of her well-groomed eyebrows lifted attractively as she turned towards Draco, a careless grin on her face. "Her name is Luna – and no, not really. I just want what they have. What Harry and Ginny have." She patted him on the cheek, staring wide-eyed and pensive. "You have sexy eyes, Malfoy." Her words slightly slurred.

"I think you're drunk," whispered Draco.

She stood back straight. "I'm perfectly fine. Grangers can hold their liquor." Hermione tripped forward again. Draco captured her shoulders, standing her upright.

"I see that." He laughed under his breath.

"If you weren't such an condescending, arrogant, prejudiced prat, you'd be very handsome."

"And if you weren't such a bossy, over-bearing know-it-all you'd be- oh who I am kidding, you're still bloody beautiful." His fingers stroked one of her loose curls as the moonlight illuminated the soft curves of her face.

"I think you're a little drunk too," she breathed.

"Actually, I'm not." Draco's hand cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. When their lips met, it was better than alcohol, better than cigarettes, better than gambling or any of Draco's many vices. It was the best kiss he ever had and it came from his childhood enemy, Hermione Granger.

The universe had sick twisted sense of humor.

A/N: I 've missed writing quirky/romantic Dramione - and really Dramione in general. And I had this idea so I hope you like it. Please review if you get a chance.