Fanfic

A/N: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling. I merely try to make the impossible coupling of Hermione and Draco work out.

Hermione ran down the hallways, repeating "Evanesco" over and over again as she tidied her house of the litter degrading the floors. She was finally about to turn seventeen this year. Finally! So she'd thrown a huge party consisting mostly of muggle friends that lived around her neighborhood, and her best mates Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Her parents had been out-of-town on a business opportunity in London so she'd had the house to herself and her friends. Little did Mr. and Mrs. Granger know that Hermione had placed an enormous order of alcohol on her dad's credit card…No matter, she thought happily in her drunken daze. Nobody's going to spoil my fun tonight. Daddy will understand anyhow, I think. Will mom though?

Her mind stopped working as her headache reached a high point and she was forced to clutch the ice pack she was carrying closer to her skin. The Advil hadn't worked. Well the Advils, more like. Anyway, she'd had fun, no questions asked.

It was about 7 a.m. and she knew her parents had promised to be home by 5 p.m. later on so she hurried to clean everything up before heading to The Burrow to celebrate once again. Ron and she had finally gotten together during her party earlier, and though she was happy, she really wanted more to happen. She had felt dizzy with passion when he had finally worked up the nerve to kiss her…That was a good sign...

The bushy-haired teenager finally stopped pacing when she stepped into a pool of puke. "ARGH!"

"Hermione?" a small voice crept from down the hallway. Ron. He stayed overnight? Oh! And Hermione realized just why he'd stayed. A smirk spread across her face as she remembered him collapsing from having exhaustion and drunkenness.

"Ron! You sleep alright?"

"Mmhm….." he leaned in for a kiss and she eagerly responded, sucking at his bottom lip, bringing him out of his sleepiness. He quickly grabbed her hips and pushed her against the wall, emphasizing the pain in her head. Who cares? She thought sighing. Who gives a fuck? But just as Ron let out an involuntary moan, Harry walked in, quickly shielding his eyes from the spectacle before him.

"Could you guys get a room?" he asked grumpily. "I really don't want to have to deal with you two sucking face for the rest of the day…" he trailed off looking everywhere but at the two lovers.

"Harry!" Hermione whined grabbing his arm and kissing him on the cheek. "Don't spoil the fun! I'm about to turn seventeen and I want to have as much fun as possible this year…that includes right now."

Ron, who had glared at Harry for Hermione's kiss, possessively snaked an arm around her waist and clicked his tongue impatiently. "Lets get this mess cleaned up so we can bring this upstairs," and he wriggled his eyebrows, suggesting more than what had happened before Harry had walked in. Hermione sighed.

"Does it have to wait that long? Harry knows how to clean,-don't you Harry?" she asked him pointedly begging for some alone time with Ron. Harry gave in, smiling sheepishly and trying to block out images or her and Ron upstairs getting busy.

"Thanks Harry!" she cried happily, lunging towards him for another kiss but Ron pulled her back towards him and hoisting her over his shoulder prisoner-style, walking effortlessly from the room, down the hallway and up the stairs to her parents' bedroom.

Harry heard the door slam before pulling his wand out and continuing to "Scourgify" the party's mess.

Back upstairs Hermione remembered she had stepped in the pile of sick, and ran for the shower, completely forgetting about Ron and the sudden pull she'd been feeling around her navel. Ron walked after her into the bathroom excited at the prospects of sex in a shower. I mean, they hadn't done it but he was sure it was on Hermione's mind for this morning they were to be spending together. Before she realized Ron was watching her, she pulled her shirt off, then her jeans, tugging as they passed over her curves. She would have kept going except she heard Ron gasp and saw him starting to tug at his own clothes.

"Ron, what on Earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded, hands on her close-to-naked hips.

He gaped at her body, completely blocking out any other thought, and obviously not paying attention to a word coming out of her mouth. She walked up to him and smacked him out of it, while running her hands down his bare chest admiring the soccer work. He had finally quit Quidditch and turned to muggle sports. Much better, was Hermione's opinion.

His hands traveled over her free skin, ravishing her neck with kisses, moaning her name softly as he slid lower and lower; to her belly button; he flipped her around, caressing her shoulders with lips, softly biting into her shoulders all the hearing Hermione's light sighs and husky moans.

The heat overtook Hermione as she felt the dizziness arising in her head, the weakness in her knees, the fumes of the bathtub reaching her nostrils. She let Ron carry her to the side of the tub to wash her feet. She let her head rest against the tiled wall and sighed herself to sleep. When Ron was finished, he looked up to see her closed eyes and even breathing, breaking into a smile and carrying her back to her bedroom for a quick nap before getting to the Burrow.