Hey! This is my first Harry Potter fic.- Whoot, whoot- although I've had this written in a notebook for, let's see, three years now? So the writting might be a little amatuer and the plot might have some holes, but I am trying to fix that. I just thought that t would be wrong to deny my fourteen-year-old self the write to publish her little stories.
I haven't read the Harry Potter books for a long time, nor seen much of the movies besides the newest one- so sad- so my lingo may be a bit rusty. Feel free to leave comments and suggestions for improvements!
She opened her eyes slowly only to quickly snap them shut to protect them from what little light was filtering through the room. She softly groaned; her head felt as if it was being beat with a sledge hammer. Trying to think back to last night, the only thing Hermione could recall was ordering a large pint, of course she had to pay a little extra to make the bartender overlook her age; it was quite obvious she was a student, but so was over half the customers in the place. Anything after the first pint, the brilliant witch drew a blank. The only thing that she could conclude was there were many more pints to follow the first. To keep her mind off of the pain in her head, Hermione tried to concentrate on her surroundings without opening her eyes and leaving them vulnerable to the evil light.
She could feel a light covering over her, she assumed it was her sheet, and she must have kicked the comforter off during the night. Well, whoever thought to bring her back to the castle was very nice; she remembered seeing some Griffindors before she took the first dreadful drink that presently was splitting her head open.
Hermione snuggled closer to her pillow, only to notice a difference in the smell of the item, and register that the pillow she was snuggling did not feel like it was stuffed with feathers. Oh crap.
Her headache was completely forgotten as it was quickly replaced with a sickening dreadful sensation in her gut as she realized that not only was it not her pillow, but a person she was currently curled up to, and that she also was completely nude under what she first assumed was her clean, cotton sheet.
Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Please, God, no!
She mentally chanted the words over and over as she prepared herself to open her eyes and see who was currently clutching her rump to maintain their close proximity.
When she opened her eyes, she came face to face with a pale, well-toned chest. Who could this be? She still did not have the courage to look up at the face; instead, she again made observations of her surroundings.
First off, she was completely naked, that had not changed, and her body felt like it had been thrown in a blender, and there was a dull throbbing…down there.
Well, bye-bye virginity. Her sarcastic thought was made as tears unwillingly sprang to her eyes. Hermione Jean Granger, the smartest witch presently at Hogwarts just lost her virginity to a complete stranger. Her eyes widened a little bit as the first couple of tears ran down her face. What if it wasn't a stranger? What if it was a person she saw every day at school? What if it was a Griffindor?
That would be worse than a complete stranger. At least with a stranger, a cute one judging by his chest, the whole experience could be forgotten. Of course she would still know, but no one else would, especially Harry and Ron, but with an acquaintance- she definitely did not know this person well- it would be tense and awkward for at least a couple of weeks. Someone would figure it out.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to mentally stop the tears leaking from her eyes, she slowly glanced up into the face of Draco Malfoy.
For a minute she just gaped like a fish out of water. Anyone but him. It was the only thought that could coherently form. Surely no amount of alcohol would allow her to do anything to or with Malfoy except maybe punch him in the face and break that narrow nose of his.
Another perplexing thing was that Malfoy was not asleep but wide awake and staring calmly right back at her. In the back of her mind something whispered that despite his state of consciousness, his hand was still tightly cupping her bottom.
Maybe it was a polyjuice potion and not really him? The desperate thought was the only logical reason she could come up with for Malfoy to have any other reaction than to cringe away from even the though of touching a "mudblood" like herself.
After an eternity of staring she finally managed a strangled little noise that sounded a lot like a frog. The sound broke her trance and in an instant she leapt up, out of the bed, taking the blanked with her, and screamed at the top of her lungs. Malfoy cringed at her banshee shriek, but otherwise did not move from his previous position.
Hermione's eyes darted wildly around the room, trying to locate her clothes, or at least her wand. There was her shirt on the dresser, her bra was at her feet, the standard school skirt was hanging from the doorknob behind her, and her cloak was strewn in the corner. She ran over to it and desperately pulled out her wand.
"Accio clothes!" As her things floated towards her, Malfoy calmly watched from the bed; he had enough decency to at least cover himself with a thread-bare sheet as she was panicking.
She quickly dressed, trying to cover herself as much as possible. Finished with that, she briskly made her way to the door, intent on departing, when he finally spoke.
"Tell me Granger, how do you expect to get out of here without being noticed?"
She froze. He was right, there was no way she would be able to make it out of the Hog's head tavern and to the shrieking shack, or even from the whopping willow to the common rooms, without being noticed. Bugger. Keeping her expression carefully neutral, she turned around to face him.
"What do you propose then?" His blue eyes absently watched her fists clench at her sides.
He finally seemed to come into his own and turned around to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Well, I suppose you have a way into the castle." He stretched his arms high above his head as he continued, "But I have the way out of here without anyone knowing." She gave an ugly face to his back, insufferable little prick, before crossing her arms over her chest.
"Who says I need your help getting out of here? I'm sure I could do it on my own." He gave a bark of laughter at her statement as he rose from the bed, she quickly turned her head away just as his pale underside came into view.
"Yes but then how will you explain to Potter and Weasel-boy how their little miss goody-two-shoes spent half the night getting sloshed, and the rest getting shag-"
She whipped her head towards him with wide eyes before narrowing them into mere slits; thankfully he had pulled on a pair of silk boxers. "You wouldn't."
He gave her a sinister-looking smile. "And what makes you so sure? I could just tell everyone you slipped something into my drink, and you know how I love torturing your little golden-boy club."
Hermione's jaw tightened, "No one will believe you." The defense sounded weak no matter the hard tone she used. His smiled widened, and he responded as if she agreed with him.
"Good." She huffed at him, but had no response since he was, after all, right. Even with her bravado, there was no way she could get out of there without being noticed.
As he moved about the room, she decided to just face the door; at least it did not give her the urges to commit murder by just looking at it. After a few moments, he heard him hiss in pain. She reeled around, eyes wide. "What is it?"
It looked as if he was in the process of putting his shirt on, but was hindered with the fabric came into contact with deep, red scratches that ran the length of his back. Her eyes widened even more in horror, her mouth rounding into an "O". Malfoy maneuvered to the dirty and cracked mirror situated over a small stand in the corner of the room, and peered over his shoulder to inspect the damage.
"Merlin Granger," He spoke as he examined the marks, "You could have just screamed." He turned his head to smirk at her, and Hermione could practically feel the redness of her face as she sputtered.
"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy. I was probably just trying to escape your evil clutches." She finished by re-crossing her arms over her chest and raising her chin with a sniff of superiority. Malfoy stood solid for a moment and his aura turned from regular Malfoy superiority complex to something a little more threatening.
He took three slow steps towards her, and the look in his eyes had her drawing back four before she composed herself enough to realize that he was just Malfoy, the insufferable little prat." She drew her shoulders back even as a twinge of unease still pooled in her belly along with the still slight ache.
You don't remember much of last night do you." It wasn't a question, and his voice was steel. Hermione was her breath coming at shorter intervals as he leaned towards her face, his eyes searching.
After a moment she was able to regain her air of superiority and glared into his steely gaze. "Fortunately, I don't remember anything but walking into the pub." She thought she saw a flicker of…it couldn't have been, hurt? Soften his eyes before he pushed passed her. "Come on." He opened the creaky door and moved almost silently into the hallway.
Hermione was so puzzled over his behavior she hadn't thought to ask how exactly he was to get them through town without being discovered.
Oh the cliches! I know, I know, but with proper delivery it might turn out somewhat decent. Please drop a reveiw :)