A million thanks to Saint Dionysus for betaing for me and to safewordisdevilsnare for encouraging me to participate and for the cover art. I drew a great deal of inspiration from CaptBexx's art titled Morning After which I unfortunately cannot find on her deviantart, society6, or Tumblr page. But her work is phenomenal and you should check her out. To see the art, I'm sure you could google it to find it (as I know I've seen it on Pinterest). Sorry for no link.

This is written for the Strictly Dramione (18+) Valentine's Fest.

The first thing she noticed was the taste. Her mouth tasted much like she imagined it would taste if she had mopped the floor with her tongue. And it was bright. She scrunched up her eyes, keeping them shut tight, but hoping to limit the light that could filter through her eyelids. She would have to get up and face the light. Growing up with two dentists as parents, she had a hard time ignoring her dental hygiene. Based on how she was feeling right now, she probably hadn't brushed her teeth and had been lucky to make it to her bed. She steeled herself to leave the warm embrace of the bed, and as she did, the small voice in the back of her head that had been mumbling about something being off—came front and center. The bed was warm, a bit too warm. And the sheets were heavenly, but as she tentatively moved her hand across them, she realized these were not her regular cotton sheets but instead a soft silk. Mentally berating herself for being in this situation, she began to take stock, hands sliding down her body under the covers. She was naked. She silently shook her head. She was not in her own bed which meant she had likely gone home with someone and judging by her current state of undress; it was likely a man—one that she now knew quite well—even if she couldn't remember it at the moment.

This is what you get when you drink too much at one of Ginny's parties, she told herself. Ginny made a mean cocktail, and after the week Hermione had had, she wasn't surprised she'd let herself go a bit.

Delaying the inevitable, she tried to organize her thoughts from the night before. She got to the party late, hating the idea of a Valentine's Day party, and chatted with Ginny for a while. Ginny had introduced her to a number of men she knew through the local quidditch club, and Hermione had tried to carry on a conversation with each of them, but she didn't remember much of a connection with any of them. While they all had the same thin and muscled build that Hermione usually fell for, she hadn't found any of them worthy of much more than small talk. Ginny would be ecstatic about her going home with one of the men, but Harry and Ron would just tease her relentlessly. She would never hear the end of it. And she probably deserved it after her lectures to Ron about his one night stands. The man's little black book grew more and more, but it seemed the women couldn't get enough of that boyish charm. Ron had grown up and ridden himself of the chip he always had so readily on his shoulder and Hermione wasn't surprised women couldn't keep her hands off him. They had tried being together, but there was too much history, and they both realized they were better off friends.

But she remembered talking to him for a while after the party. Oh, Merlin! She felt her nose scrunch in disgust. Did I come home with Ron? Ugh! What was I thinking! Her stomach turned at the thought, and she had to focus on not throwing up. But Ron wouldn't have silk sheets. There is no way this was Ron's bed. She rubbed the fabric again, just to reassure herself. No matter what, she was going to have to ask about these sheets because she was going to need a pair for her bed.

She struggled with the memories of the night before, trying to piece together how she'd gotten from the party to this bed, but everything was still a jumble. She could remember talking to Ron and Malfoy for a while, catching up with Hannah, bumping into Neville, talking more with Harry, and then, maybe, Malfoy again? Or Ginny? Or neither? The further into the night she got, the harder it was to be sure just what had happened.

She clenched her jaw, working up the courage to peek across the bed and see who was there. She took a deep breath and cracked open her eyes. She sat up abruptly at the sight of white blonde hair against green silk sheets. She was in bed with none other than Draco Malfoy.

The man in question started to turn and stretch. His eyes were still closed and Hermione was frozen in place. He had a small amount of blonde stubble across his jawline...memories from the night before started to trickle in as she watched him. The more she remembered, the more she blushed, holding the sheet tightly around her. She had definitely slept with Malfoy and as much as she wished it wasn't true, he was quite good. If she could stop thinking about how nice another go would be, she could maybe focus on how to get out of here with some level of composure.

"Good morning," he drawled, startling her. He had opened one eye to look at her and she heated up more. "No need to get all hot and bothered, Granger, we haven't even begun."

"We won't even be starting!" Hermione stood up quickly, pulling the sheet with her as she backed away from the bed. In doing so, she stripped Draco of his only modicum of modesty and revealed his naked form. "Oh Merlin! I'm so sorry Malfoy, I didn't mean to do that!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, releasing the sheet that then cascaded down her body. She realized her mistake and shrieked, reaching down to grab the sheet and pull it back around her. As she stood up, she knocked her head against a small table and fell, the sheet slipping from her hands before she blacked out.

oOo

The first thing she noticed was the taste. Her mouth tasted like she had mopped the floor with her tongue. Feeling a sense of deja vu, she started to sit up, preparing to go to the bathroom to brush her teeth, but the pain that shot from the back of her head caused her to fall back to the pillow. The pillow covered in silk. Her memories started to come back to her and she groaned, hoping they were only a dream. Not-so-silent laughter coming from her side forced her eyes open and she glanced over at Malfoy, head propped up on one arm, laughing at her. He was dressed in black lounge pants and a fitted grey t-shirt. She tried sitting up again and noticed that she also had a t-shirt on, but hers was few sizes too big and while it did seem to fall to her thighs, it slid off one shoulder as she rose up.

"How's your head?" Malfoy asked, still snickering.

"Terrible, thanks for asking," Hermione glared at him. He rolled onto his back and reached for something on the small end table. When he came back, he had two small vials in his hand that he offered to her.

"Hangover and pain potions. I thought you might be in need of them."

She took them, uncorked them both, and swallowed them down. She gagged at the taste and felt the bile rise in her throat, but she kept it down.

"Thanks."

An awkward silence fell between them, and Hermione glanced down at her hands, unsure what to say.

"I assume from your surprise earlier that you didn't remember agreeing to come home with me last night?" Malfoy asked, drawing her attention. The lightness in his voice was gone, replaced with the hardness she had usually associated with him.

"Uh, I didn't before, but, um, I remember enough to know what happened. I'm, uh, well, I remember talking to you with Ron and then maybe again later. I'm not sure how we got from talking to here but, uh, I remember after," she said, blushing at the memory of their night together. Her first hand experience proved Draco Malfoy's prowess in the bedroom was no fallacy, and to be frank, an encore performance would be most welcome.

Malfoy met her eye before speaking. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were that drunk when I invited you home. I wouldn't have pursued this had I known." She nodded and he stood up.

"You can use the Floo in this room to return home and your things are here," he indicated to a folded pile of clothing on a sofa. "I won't keep you any longer." The door shut without him looking back once.

Hermione put her head in her hands, massaging her temples. The pain in her head started to subside, allowing her to remember more and more of their time together. Draco had been his usual snarky self at the party, taking the mickey out of her about some new house-elf legislation she was trying to get through. They had bantered back and forth, both enjoying their conversation. And then Ron had come over.

oOo

"'Ermione!" Ron hollered as he stumbled over to her, grabbing her arm for support. "Oops, sorry Mione, I didn't mean to bump into you. Look," he shook his head as if to clear it before speaking again. "I know we had plans to go to that picture place tomorrow but I was wondering if we could do it another time? I met this really nice girl and uh, well, I don't think I'm gonna be able to make it. Is that okay? Please don't be mad Mione, please." His eyes were pleading and Hermione chuckled to herself.

"Go, Ron, it's fine," she smiled at him. She was unsurprised that he was bailing on her as he did it regularly. But she actually enjoyed going to movies alone. Going with Ron was a pain and he somehow always managed to invite himself along, sure she needed someone to go with her. Ron hugged her and headed off towards a brunette who smiled and waved at him.

Malfoy sniggered, "If that isn't a prime example of thinking with your other head, I don't know what is."

"Oh give it a rest Malfoy," she rolled her eyes at him.

"You're just gonna let him back out on your plans simply because he wants to get laid?"

"No, I'm letting him out of our plans because they were my plans in the beginning and I'd rather see Titanic alone. He'll just complain the whole time and he only invites himself along because he thinks I'll be lonely if I go to the cinema alone."

"I thought the point of going to the cinema was to snog in the dark." Malfoy laughed at his joke.

"Wrong again, Malfoy. Careful, your pureblood is showing."

"I know you have those TV's in your house. If you can watch a show in the comfort of your own home, why would you pay to go sit in a dark theatre with a flock of other people if it wasn't to take advantage of a dark place with plenty of places to get caught?"

"Only you would think the risk of getting caught would be part of the appeal."

"But you admit the snogging is part of the fun?" Malfoy winked at her.

"Why am I not surprised you have such a twisted idea of fun?"

"You know what could be fun? Doing it here, in Potter's house."

"Oh Merlin, you have to be kidding me. There is no way—"

"You know you want to Granger. Let's face it. You've been eyeing me all night."

"Have not!"

"Come on Granger, don't kid yourself," Malfoy drawled, winking at Hermione.

"Oh Malfoy, you think I haven't noticed the way you've been watching me tonight? I think you're the one who wants me and are denying yourself."

"Well, then I might as well stop now. Come home with me Granger."

She grabbed his hand and whispered in his ear. "Well then, what are you waiting for?"

oOo

The hours that followed could only be described as blissful. Malfoy knew what he was doing in the bedroom, and it was no surprise Hermione slept as well as she did. She got dressed quickly, folding up the shirt she had been wearing and leaving it on the same couch her clothes had been piled on. She stepped through the Floo and flopped down on her couch. The more she thought about last night, the more she regretted her actions. Despite their hairy past, she had enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed chatting with him during the party and well, she'd have to be dead not to have enjoyed their time together at the manor. But this morning, after she had hit her head, it had been a full 180 turn and she wasn't quite sure what had caused it.

She tidied up her flat, trying to push away her thoughts, but after an hour, she decided to just send an owl to Malfoy to try and clear the air. And then try not to think of their time together every time she saw or thought of him.

Draco,

I just wanted to apologize for my confusion this morning regarding our night together. I quite enjoyed talking to you at the party and hope that we can continue our conversations on a regular basis, if only so I can convince you that you are wrong when it comes to the rights of elves.

It was a pleasure to get to know you better.

Hermione

Hermione scribbled down the first thing she thought, trying to avoid any awkwardness by overthinking the letter, and sent it off immediately. Glancing at her watch, she realized her show would be beginning soon, and she needed to get ready. She hurried off for a quick shower before attending the cinema.

oOo

Hermione arrived 15 minutes early to the theatre and was contemplating if she wanted anything other than popcorn when she heard someone clear their throat near her ear. She jumped and turned, seeing Malfoy's guarded eyes appraising her.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

"I got your owl, Granger."

"Well, that is why I sent it. But I don't remember mentioning anything about seeing a film in the letter so, let me try again. Malfoy, what are you doing here, at the theatre, right now?" Malfoy scowled at her.

"Nevermind," he said, his eyes flashing with irritation. He started to turn away but she grabbed his arm.

"No. Look, last night, we got on fine and then this morning, I hit my head and suddenly, you're an ice king. Then you show up here and play the same game. I assume the knock on the head didn't addle my brain enough to change your attitude so, what gives?"

He glared at her, staring into her eyes before he finally spoke.

"I thought you regretted it. And I didn't want you to think I had taken advantage of you while you were drunk."

"And in the past, has your cold-shoulder storm-out after a night together helped indicate to your date you enjoyed your time together?"

"No," he growled.

"Well, then maybe that's part of the problem."

Draco glared at her and she met his look, not wavering. He looked down then lifted his chin high, gritting his teeth.

"I'm sorry."

"Hmm, what was that, I'm afraid I didn't hear you."

"Granger…"

"Malfoy, it's like you're trying to say something, but I just can't hear you."

"I'm sorry Granger, seriously, you are the only woman I know who doesn't know when to stop."

"I think what you mean is 'doesn't stop when you want her to' Malfoy."

"Fine." There was silence before Hermione spoke again.

"Since you're here, Malfoy, would you be interested in seeing a movie?"

"I think I would, Granger."

The two stood in line, getting a bag of popcorn before making their way into the theatre. Hermione warned him the movies was a tragedy and love story but that he still had to be a good movie goer and keep his scoffing to a minimum.

"I think I can manage."

"Good," she said as they settled into their seats.

"But really, Granger, I have to say, your letter was a piece of work. 'It was a pleasure to get to know you better'? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to get me into your bed." Draco smirked at her. She blushed, embarrassed to have sent the letter off without rereading it.

She met his eyes. "Well, maybe I do. It got you to the muggle cinema, so I have to think it's working at least a little."

Draco laughed out loud, earning him a number of glares from the other audience members.

"Now quiet down, it's starting."

He took her hand. "Yes, it is."