Wait! Haven't we heard this before?

AUTHOR'SNOTE: AH, WRITERS BLOCK! In celebration of writer's block I decided to create a parody of sorts using commonly used clichés in a Draco/Hermione post-Hogwarts fic. I'm going to write this as a normal story including as many cliché dr/hg bits as I possibly can. Throughout this time I will still try and manage to keep you entertained.
THEDISCLAIMER: Would you really sue me if I didn't put one of these dumb things here? Not mine, okay, lets move on.

Chapter one: The scene where she's really drunk.

Hermione Granger, ex-Gryffindor-frizz-ball extraordinaire swaggered through the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, impaling innocent passer-by in her drunken stupor. Goddamn rum she thought as she leaned on a window sill for balance. Goddamn lovely rum. A voice in her head scolded her - it wasn't the way a proper witch should behave. She was acting irresponsible. Irresponsible just like that miserable Weasley.

That miserable, stupid, sodding Weasley that nearly wrecked her emotional stability.

Nearly? Ha.

He completely disregarded her feelings and their relationship. This'll show him!

How it would "show him" she would never actually figure out.

Tonight Hermione Granger planned a night out on town with the bottle, drowning her lonely solemn existence within it's intoxicating contents - um, right.

And so she did.

She wandered, and wandered.

"Heyyyy, wha the…" She paused in her tracks "bugger…." Somewhere between Zonkos and Merlin-knows-where, Hermione found herself smack dab in the middle of Knockturn Alley. "Imma gonna go catch me a Death Eater" she said, with a half smile on her bewildered face.

-

A little bit further in the Alley, everyone's favourite prick-with-a-secret-good-side was obviously in a small pawn shop buying something which was seemed to be illegal. This is what he did: he doddled around the mansion in extremely attractive silk boxers and brought illegal items when he did venture to leave.

Such was the highly sought-after daily life of a Malfoy. Right?

Of course.

He retrieved a pouch from his dark emerald, Persian imported robes and slipped the store clerk a few galleons in exchange for a small package.

"Thank you" he said curtly. After the arrest of Malfoy Sr. and death of Narcissa, Draco had grudgingly accepted the duties of running the Manor after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

As he gathering his bearings to leave the shop, a laughing mess stumbled into the doorway.

"Granger?" he was utterly repulsed. "This is Knockturn Alley, I think your stupid arse is lost."

"Hmm?" she said, eyes glazed.

Draco studied her like a specimen for a few seconds and noticed a familiar smell to her.

"Have you…been drinking?" he said, aghast in surprise.

"Haaa, no. Ok, maybe. What's it to you?" Granger retorted, defiantly.

"Granger, you're obviously quite intoxicated. I'd offer to take you home, but you're Granger."

"Ohhhkay. Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Yes"

"Where?"

"Nowhere."

Granger snorted "C'mon, where? You know my name!"

"We slept together once."

"We did?"

"No. "

Granger snorted again "You're funny."

Malfoy smirked, Malfoy always smirks. "I'm insulted. Goodnight, Mudblood."

---

Hermione paused in the middle of the shop, not noticing the Shop keeper grow uneasy at the term "mud blood"… Hermione however, had been stung by the words.

"Waitttt, I know who you are now!"

She said, flailing her arms not actually wanting to catch him but feeling exciting she figured it out. Draco fucking Malfoy! She sighed in disbelief, out of all people to run into during a Draco/Hermione story she would never had expected to encounter him.

---

Draco looked back in disgust. So the filthy thing remembered him after all; stupid broad waltzing around Diagon Alley completely smashed! Didn't she know the dangers? Didn't Hermione -whatever her middle name is - Granger stop and realise how foolish it was to be a mudblood running vulnerable in Death Eater infested territory? Yes, Voldemort died but yes… the majority of Death Eaters still mistreated Muggleborns.

Her vulnerability pleased him… top student of his Hogwarts class? Head Girl of their 7th year?

And there she was: drunk as a skunk smack dab in Knockturn Alley.

It was all too funny to pass up. She had made her choice (rather the rum made it for her) Now she'd have to wait for the consequences and accept them. Something very evil inside of Draco Malfoy wanted to hang around and see what those consequences might be. So, he did what he never thought he'd do for cheap amusement…he waited until she left and he followed her.

She had grown considerably in the past three years since they left Hogwarts Granted, she was still average, bushy and probably still annoying when sober, but …oh, who was he kidding? She hasn't changed a bit.

In the dark alley it was easy to keep hidden and in her state she was easy to keep an eye on. She walked into an old pub, Draco followed quietly behind and put his hood up so that his blonde hair was hidden from view. He sat down a few stools down the line, ordered some whiskey and watched her create her own humiliation Karma has been good to you, Draco Malfoy he said, with a smug smile as Hermione started chatting with a couple of skeevy looking robed wizards a few tables away.

Draco guessed she never drank rum before, or anything for that matter. The men started to toy with the material on her navy blue robes, as she sipped a drink they brought for her. She laughed, apparently enjoying the attention. This wasn't the Granger he knew and despised. In fact, this was just downright frightening.

--

This isn't who you are, Hermione scolded that voice in the back of her head.

Let loose, Hermione. Savour the attention. It's not like you'll ever get it again replied another.

Hermione, leave now!

Stay -

- leave

Stay-

leave -

"Stop it!" she yelled aloud. The older wizards around her looked startled.

One of them snickered to the other "She's a fighter, let's take that fight right out of her!"

His friend laughed, a hollow laugh.

Stay -

-leave

Stay -

leave-

- Stay

Another hand crept to the hem of her robes. "Hey, McNair, let's have some fun."

Shit -

- fuck.

Shit -

-fuck.

Hermione reached for her wand, but saw it dangling above her tauntingly.

"You'll get it back, precious, if you do just as we say."

"I'm s-serious. Give it." Hermione said, putting on a brave face.

"Get up." One said, and she did.

"That's good."

She snarled.

"Now wipe that snarl off your face and come with us."

Run-

-run faster!

Hermione tried to make a break for it and lunged for her wand. I hate rum. Loathe it, really starting to loathe it… she reached for the wand and felt it in her palm. Her legs could no longer hold her, and her mind seemed as if it could no longer function for her. The wand snapped in her grasp as she hit the floor in an unwelcoming thud.

Goodnight.