Chapter One – The Evening Prior

Before she even opened her eyes, Hermione Granger knew she was hungover. The dull pulsing behind her eyes and rolling stomach gave that much away. That was the last time she let Ginny convince her to go out and party.

"But it's going to be a new millennia!" Ginny had pouted. She had been begging Hermione for three days. They had stood by the stove at the Burrow the night before New Year's Eve. Molly was making stew for dinner and Hermione and Ginny offered their help.

"I said no, Ginny!" Hermione remained steadfast to Ginny's insistence and held her position on the matter. She leaned back as the onions she had been mincing floated into the ripping hot skillet to become aromatic before being added to the stew. Hermione turned back to Ginny, her face set with determination. "I'm already going to the New Year's Eve banquet at the Ministry. Minister Shacklebolt invited Harry, Ronald, I and personally to make speeches to toast the new millennia and enter a new era without Voldemort."

Ginny still cringed at the name, but she recovered from her lapse quickly. "That's precisely why you lot need to come out with us! Honestly. All those stuffy Ministry hags and the whiny reporters from the Daily Prophet will drive you absolutely mental. You need one night of partying like a regular human being."

Hermione tapped her wand against the stew pot. It began stirring itself. Ginny did have a point. Ever since the downfall of Voldemort, she, Ron, and Harry didn't seem to have a moment's peace. Everywhere they went there were cameras and reporters wanting interviews, as well as other witches and wizards that wanted pictures, a moment of conversation, sex, or (in one very bizarre instance) all of the above and a lock of Hermione's hair. Harry had ushered her away, beet red in the face, while Ron spat profanities back at them for such a horrific request.

She looked back up at Ginny, who was channeling her best puppy dog face. Hermione sighed heavily. "I'll make you a deal. The three of us will go to the Ministry banquet, say our speeches, and then go out with you. But only a few drinks! I have a lot to do this weekend."

The ginger witch had screamed with delight and hugged her, insisting that they go to the shops in muggle London for club outfits. Hermione had been excited to do so; girls' days with Ginny were a treat; especially in places where no one knew who they were.

In some ways, Hermione regretted agreeing to going out to a club. She was sure she was going to vomit in a few minutes and they had drunk far more than they intended to. But she remembered having fun. Wasn't that all that mattered?

Hermione rubbed her eyes, finding—to her chagrin—that they were still caked with makeup. Perfect. She didn't want to deal with this now. It was way too early. Or at least she thought it was. Hermione cracked one bleary eyelid open to look at the muggle alarm clock on her bedside table. She was very glad that New Year's Day was on a Saturday this year; it was almost noon.

She rolled over in bed and felt her arm hit something solid. Jumping up in surprise and finally opening her eyes fully, Hermione reeled back, got tangled in the sheets, and fell off the bed. She squealed in horror as she tried to wrap the bed sheets around herself. There was a man in her bed and she was completely naked!

"Mff…"

The man groaned and sat up, blocking the rays of morning light that streamed though the window. "Where…?"

Hermione looked up at the man in her bed in horror and shock. "MALFOY?!" She shrieked.

Draco Malfoy swung his head around and looked down at her. His eyes became the size of dinner plates. His lip curled and he spat: "Granger?! What the hell is going on?" He jumped out of her bed and Hermione covered her eyes with a squeak. He was as naked as the day he was born.

"Where are my clothes?" Malfoy demanded as he came to the same realization. Hermione continued to cover her eyes with her hand. "What the hell am I doing here?! Where am I?!"

Anger and annoyance bubbled in Hermione's chest. "This is my flat! What are YOU doing here?!" She heard him scrabbling around and putting clothing on.

"Sleeping in your bed apparently! Why were you sleeping on the floor?"

"I wasn't! I was sleeping in my bed! You were the one—!"

"Merlin's beard, tell me we didn't sleep together."

Hermione rounded on him, glad that he was covered now. He seemed have stopped fumbling with his silver necktie and was now staring at her, agog. She felt the same sense of foreboding and surprise.

"Well if you had any brains for logic, you would come to the swift conclusion that it must be the case." She took no pride in saying it, but it must be true. What other conclusions could be drawn from the scattered clothes, naked bodies, and musky smelling sheets she was now entwined in? The very thought of it made her feel sick. Or was that the hangover?

Malfoy wrenched off his tie in frustration and put his head in his hands. "Dear gods above and below…"

Hermione stood up, the beige sheet wrapped around her like an ancient Roman stola. "Please, spare me the melodramatics." She tried to hold herself with some sort of poise, despite the sheet she was wearing and the impending need to be sick. "It isn't as if I am not equally ashamed of what we evidently did. Now please do me the greatest favor you could ever accomplish and get out of my sight!"

"There is truly no need to tell me twice." Malfoy grumbled as he picked up his belongings and, throwing her one last dirty look, disappearated with a crack.

Hermione put a hand to her head and sat down on the edge of her bed, mind reeling. Draco Malfoy. In her bed?! What had they done? Well, other than the obvious of having sex—

She sprinted to her bathroom and was promptly sick. The smell was vile and brought back harsh memories of the previous evening. A whiskey shot here, a dance there, far too many vodka cranberries in the middle, and at least one Irish car bomb. Lots of grinding on unknown muggle men, booming bass music, and maybe another round of shots happened at some point. Sweet Merlin, how was she not dead?

Wait, she had been sick before now.

Last night. In the alleyway of the bar.

Oh god, it was all coming back to her now.

Someone held her hair.

Ron? No, Ron didn't drink anymore.

This someone was drunk too.

Harry?

No.

MALFOY.

She remembered the shock of white blond hair. She had looked up and faintly recognized him. He was piss drunk too. But he had cared and helped her home. She remembered slurring how amazing he was to apperate while drunk and not splinch them. Despite the vomiting, she had somehow still been incredibly drunk.

"Honest… Honestly! I've neverrrr done that! You're soooo talented, Malfoy…" She leaned into his shoulder earnestly, smelling his earthy cologne. It kindled a fire in her that had been dormant since she and Ron had broken up. "It was so amazing of you to bring me home! I mean, honestly! What would I have done if you weren't there?"

He scoffed as she fumbled for her keys to her apartment. "Pleeeeease. That was nothing. Literally nothing. I'm amazing in all sorts of ways!" He tried leaning against the door frame but fell onto the floor in a drunken pile of limbs. Hermione burst into fits of giggles at the sight and Malfoy soon joined in her laugher.

"You know… You know something, M-Malfoy?" She sat on the floor next to him after she closed the door to her apartment. "You have a grrrrreat smile. Why don't cha ever smile?"

"Why don't you ever call me Draco?" He shot back, fixing her with his storm grey eyes. Said eyes had trouble focusing on her at first, but he found her face eventually and made a less than convincing scowl. "You and your friends… ya always… always just call me by my surname and you don't hafta!" All pomp and circumstance in his voice was gone now; years of pureblood lessons and vocal training were a memory after a long night of drinking.

Hermione propped her chin on her fists and cocked her head at him, sending the whole room spinning. "I dunno. We always have. I think it's 'cause you were such… such a prick in school."

He seemed to look ashamed. Then again, she was absolutely drunk.

"I've ch-changed, you know…"

Something in his voice caught her attention. She hiccupped once and leaned in towards his face. "I think you're (hic) right. I mean, I mean, the Malfoy I know would never bring me home when I was so sodding drunk." She laughed again, but stopped when she saw Malfoy had sat up and was now staring at her intently. "What? (hic) Whadid I say?"

"Lemme show you."

"Huh?"

"Lemme show you, Hermione. Lemme show you I've changed. I'll, I'll be a better person in the future! I'll show you!" There was fire in those storms now.

Hermione fell forward onto his chest again, the room continuing to do a loop around her. "Can you show me later? I'm suuuuuuper (hic) dizzy. I wanna lie down… Help me to my room?"

Malfoy fidgeted, then asked: "Am, am I allowed in your bedroom?"

Hermione laughed until she saw he was serious. "Yeah, 'course you are! C'mon, help me up, you (hic) you lump." He forced himself to his feet and lifted Hermione deftly. "Geez, you're strong…" Suddenly, they were almost nose-to-nose, looking at each other from a distance they had never experienced before. Hermione never realized that she and Malfoy were the same height, and she wasn't a short woman by any stretch.

"Oh…"

"Um…"

"Your… Your breath smells like booze."

The comment took Hermione so off guard that she couldn't help but laugh. Malfoy joined her, and it felt really nice. Almost natural.

Just as quickly as they had started laughing, their lips were locked and neither was sure who made the first move.

She winced as the rest of the night came flooding back in great detail. She wasn't sure what was more unnerving: a laid back Draco Malfoy at a muggle club in London or her seeming ability to befriend anyone while drunk. Had he been serious when he said he had changed? This wasn't Hogwarts anymore. They weren't children. Children say awful things to each other; adults could forgive.

Hermione shook her head. Who was she kidding? This was Draco Malfoy. Of course he hadn't been serious. The way he had reacted being in the same room with her just minutes ago was proof enough of that. No, if one thing was for certain, Draco Malfoy could not change. He would not. A headstrong Slytherin like that? Hermione scowled into her toilet bowl and repressed another wave of nausea. Nope. Once a bully always a bully.

One drunken night of foolishness wouldn't change that.


An hour and a half later, Hermione could say she was refreshed. After showering the hairspray out and wiping all the makeup off, she felt nearly human. Nearly was the keyword to the phrase, however. That was nothing a cup of coffee couldn't fix. With a flick of her wand, the muggle machine began to fill itself and brew a particularly strong cup of Sumatran blend.

CRACK!

"Morning!"

Hermione nearly dropped the mug she was retrieving from the cupboard. She whirled around to see Ginny Weasley standing in her living room, looking bright and chipper.

"Merlin's pants, Ginny, warn me before you do that! I nearly had a heart attack."

The redhead raised a brow. "Merlin's pants?"

Hermione waved a dismissive hand. "A favored expression of Ron that rubbed off on me." Ginny pulled a face.

"I don't want to know about what of my brother has rubbed off on you." She ducked the thrown bag of coffee that went whizzing over her head. "Kidding, kidding!"

"Didn't sound very 'kidding' to me. Accio coffee bag," Hermione caught the bag and put it back in the cupboard. "Why are you so awake and excited this morning? Do you not recall the rager we got ourselves into last night?" Hermione automatically poured two cups of coffee, milk and two sugars for herself and black with three sugars for Ginny. She took a sip and smiled. Perfect.

"Ron is bringing a new friend 'round for New Year's dinner." Ginny said with a gush of satisfaction, taking her coffee mug with both hands.

Hermione looked at Ginny, confused. "Harry brings me every year. So what if Ron brings a friend?"

Ginny scoffed. "No, no, no. A friend."

"It's too early for this, Ginny, honestly."

"It's a girl!"

"What?"

"Ron's bringing some girl named Cass!"

Something felt vaguely painful in Hermione's chest when Ginny said that. Ron had moved on. Hermione shook out the thought. Why did she care anyway? It was Ron that broke off their relationship. It had been for the best; they had both agreed on that. The relationship was unhealthy and they didn't have the same connection that they did at Hogwarts. The war had strained them too much; they had grown apart. It was only natural. "These things happen," he had said.

"Hello? Are you in there, Hermione?"

She snapped out of her reverie to look up at Ginny. "Sorry, the news just startled me is all."

Ginny was quiet. "Are you still in love with him?"

Hermione didn't know how to answer that. "I don't think so," she replied lamely. "In all reality, I'm not sure if I was ever in love with him as a person."

"I don't understand." Ginny took a sip of her coffee, thought for a moment, then added another cube of sugar.

"I don't know quite how to explain it. He saved my life on more than one occasion and he was there for me in the thick of it after the war when my nightmares were at their worst." Hermione shrugged as she stirred her coffee. "I think… I think I was in love with all that he did for me. Ron was good to me," she laughed a bit, "hell, he was good for me when I needed him. But in the end, he was more of a security blanket at Hogwarts and after the war. We needed each other then and we had each other. So now… we've moved on, but I miss what we had."

Silence fell between the two witches for a moment.

"I think I know what you mean," Ginny said as she sipped her coffee. "There were a couple of guys before Harry—" Hermione snorted slightly. Ginny gave her a dark look, but smiled. "Alright, so there were a fair few. But, I do understand what you mean. Every guy that I've dated before Harry has always been a security blanket, like you said. It was never meant to last. As a kid, you put your blanket down one day and you don't pick it up again. So I guess I do understand. I'm just sorry I won't have you as a sister-in-law." Ginny's good-natured humor returned with a smile.

Hermione nudged her. "Hey, I still have a chance. Charlie is still single!"

Ginny gave a laugh. "If he ever decides to pay attention to anyone but the latest dragon hatchlings, I'll let you know."

"Keep me posted!" Hermione replied with chuckle. "Are you free before New Year's dinner?" She drained her coffee and sent the empty cup into the sink with a lazy flick of her wand.

"Should be, why do you ask?"

"I was thinking about popping down to the shops in Diagon Alley. I need some potion ingredients to refill my supply." Hermione gave an excited grin. "My entrance exams for Cypress and Southers are tomorrow."

Ginny gasped. "That's tomorrow? Aren't you nervous?"

Hermione replied with a shrug and took the letter from the Healer's school off her bulletin board. "Not really. I think I could get in very well just on merit." She handed Ginny the letter:

CYPRESS & SOUTHERS INSTITUTE
OF MAGICAL HEALING AND MEDICINE
est. 1667 | West London, England
.oOOOo.

17 December 1999

To Miss Hermione J. Granger,

It is my great privilege and honor to grant you preliminary admittance to the Cypress and Southers Institute of Magical Healing and Medicine. Please note that full admittance to the Institute is contingent on the passing of a series of practical entrance examinations.

Though your application essay and academic transcript were both stunning in their own right, I can assure you that they were wholly unnecessary. Your heroic deeds to the British Wizarding community are merits of their own degree.

However, this noted, you must still sit the entrance examinations. They will be given on the second of January, 2000 in the Augustine Cypress Medical Ward. This building is located on the eastern section of the campus. A map has been enclosed for your ease of travel, as well the day's schedule and a list of items you will need to bring into the examinations. You will be inspected upon arrival for any dishonest supplies and spells.

Please arrive promptly at eight o'clock in the morning. Testing begins at eight thirty, no late admittance.

We anticipate your presence with great eagerness.

Sincerely,

Professor Thomas C. Holloway
Dean of Admissions and Medical Potions Master
Cypress and Southers Institute of Magical Healing and Medicine

Ginny whistled, impressed. "That's brilliant, Hermione! You have to show Mum this if you haven't already!" She handed it back.

"I'll bring it along. I know I told her, but I think she would love to see the letter." Hermione looked at the clock on the wall. "A quarter to two… Would you like to go down to the shops now?"

Ginny checked her Muggle wristwatch, which, in a tinny voice sang – "Don't forget dinner with Mum and Dad tonight!" – to a jaunty tune.

She smiled at her watch and said, "Yeah, I could do that. We can go to New Year's dinner right afterwards." Arthur had given the watch to her as a gift, insisting to Molly that there were no enchantments on it. Later, Ginny found out it had been charmed to sing a schedule if one was given to it by the wearer. Ginny had been thrilled; the mix of Muggle and magic items was more fascinating to her than it had been in her youth.

Slinging on a jumper and her beaded bag, Hermione lead Ginny over to the fireplace, where they each took a small handful of Floo Powder and said: "The Leaky Cauldron!"

As they emerged in the hustle and bustle of the wizarding pub, Hermione decided to put the more scandalous details of the night prior out of her mind and focus on a fun afternoon with Ginny.


(I have to say, I'm excited. This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. Updates won't be on a set schedule, but they should be up about every one to two weeks. Thanks for reading!)