Disclaimer: I do not own anything; only the plot (if you can realize that there is a plot). Everything else is owned by the brilliant JK Rowling. The first word(s) of every chapter came from the song "Until We Bleed", sang by Lykke Li and done by Andrea Kleerup.
*Update: Thanks for all who favorited: Angelndevil1, Backstage Queen, Bittersweet Deception, blackspring'ngreencrystal, danilynn61285, Dramionelover18, hguy13, I Will Change Their Fate, Jo-Marie, licensetospeak, lilkairi17, Lillygoddesss, maggiemay02, Maria Sven, polofreak, secondaryonly, xellll, and xo4Kisses-Dixo (not sure if these are still your pen names, but still). It means a lot. All the chapters are a little edited now, from minor typos and changes in the scenes. If there are any errors left, please review! :))
Author's Note: This fiction is entirely descriptive and highly vague, so if you're looking for "back and forth" conversations between characters, I'm afraid I will fail your wants in a fan fiction. Also, I'm afraid this is also a bit OOC, I haven't done a fan fiction in six years, this is my first try ever since. Reviewing will be highly appreciated! :)
I'm naked.
That was the first words that came to her head when she woke that cloudy Sunday morning. Soon to be Mrs. Ronald Weasley was naked on a bed with no recollection whatsoever of what happened to be a one night stand with another random guy she met in the club she always went to when she felt sad. Pathetic as it may be, she liked being fucked by other men; it makes her feel equal to her fiancé as he too was fooling around with random girls when he's away for work.
After the war, Hermione became an instant celebrity. People wanted to know more about her, who she was, where she came from, what part she had being in the Golden Trio; something that made her really uncomfortable. She was so used to being in the background as she was just some sort of "helper" to Harry Potter that the attention didn't really feel right to her. But she couldn't do much about it. Everything that happened to her since then became very public. From her bringing back her parents' memories, to her return to Hogwarts to finish her education, and her on-and-off relationship with Ron, her face would always be in the papers having speculations of what was on her mind as she would never open up for interviews and what-not. It was enough to be tortured by the Bellatrix Lestrange; she didn't need to have any more of this social circus.
After graduating from Hogwarts as the top student, she decided it would be therapeutic for her to disguise herself and go out in Muggle London. She wanted to experience things that she never had as a teenager like partying until dawn and having her adrenalin pumped with substance abuse (as she wanted to call it). Every Saturday night, she would go to this little underground club to smoke spliff, drink alcohol, and dance to whatever house music the DJ played. She would wear different colored wigs or put washable hair color sprays everytime she did so that her anonymity would be secured. She didn't want to use magic on anything she would do in these nights because it would get in the way of her being muggle. And everytime she went there, it felt like long awaited-escape from the week's hustle.
When Ginny finally told her about her boyfriend's escapades with the ton of woman that throw themselves at him, it ignited Hermione's desire to get even. At first, she was hesitant as she had never been with anyone else for a long time, but she realized that she didn't want to be the little goody two shoes everyone had been calling her in school anymore. She didn't show Ginny that she even thought of such thing, she knew that her friend would only disapprove of it and she didn't want anyone to tell her what to do or not to do. Saturday nights became "I'm going to get fucked and I'm going to like it" nights in her weekly schedule.
The first few times were weird for her, but thanks to her first lesbian, Georgina, who taught her how to really have fun with what she's doing, she got the hang of not feeling sorry leaving the man's room without waking him up. Hermione and Georgina kept in touch, going out whenever the two got the chance. They found a friend in each other, something Hermione longed for because everyone only wanted to be around her because of her celebrity status.
A massive headache embraced her skull as her pulled the maroon colored sheets to cover her exposed breasts. She yawned as she opened her eyes to notice her surroundings. This guy is definitely not muggle. She thought as she observed the room she was in. It was certain to her that she felt magic in the air. Still a little groggy, she mustered all her strength to get out his arms, determined (more than usual) to leave without waking him up since he was a wizard. She sat up and stretched her aching limbs, looking for her articles of clothing on the floor. His musky groan alerted her to be a little faster in collecting her blue lacey knickers, hanging tank top, tight blue jean shorts, and bits of her jewelry, some of which were destroyed due to the aggressiveness of previous night's affair, from the floor. She cursed under her breath, regretting not bringing her wand that time as she could've repaired her favorite green metal necklace she bought in a vintage store in France. She started dressing up when suddenly she heard a cool voice whisper,
"I thought you had more class than the others, Granger."
Her heart skipped a beat realizing who she just shared a glorious shag with; her mortal enemy, Draco Malfoy. Unconsciously opening her mouth in disbelief, she turned to look at him while he rubbed his eyes, still half asleep. Draco looked a lot different than before, making Hermione believe that it was only possible explanation she had, she didn't recognize who she was with. He was a bit tanned and his hair was brown and long, a drastic change from his signature platinum slicked back blonde hair. His exposed lean upper body showed battle scars, which Hermione didn't really know of as she thought Draco was never there and probably was in the custody of the Order already; later, she concluded she thought wrong.
"You really aren't going to leave me here alone, right? Or have you done this a lot, that's why you know it's better to leave before he wakes up so you can avoid the awkward 'good morning' greetings?" he said, blankly yawning while saying the last few words. It was hard for her to read him at this time as many thoughts came across her mind. A sudden rush of incoherent memories came to her the moment she started hearing his voice; the sensual dancing, the drunken flirting, the numerous times that shagged each other senseless. For a moment, she closed her eyes and prayed that it was all a dream. She opened her eyes only to see Draco already getting putting on his silver boxers on.
"This is real." She said, with a loud sigh.
"Yes, Hermione, this is real life." He walked past her and placed his hand in her black colored hair. "I like your hair black, you look… different."
She pushed his hand away from her hair and began putting her shorts on. She put her sex-smelling hair into a bun and collected her broken jewelry, putting it in her bag. She was on her way to the door when she realized she hadn't worn her shoes yet. She turned back and saw Draco holding her pair of Chucks. Letting out another heavy sigh, she walked toward him and gave her right hand out, silently asking for her shoes. She knew he wouldn't let her out easily, so she didn't give the effort or the entertainment to jump up if ever she missed stealing her shoes away from him. He was far too tall and she was far too tired for that.
"Now, now, love. You don't have to be all silent with me."
She remained silent. She didn't want to give the impression that he had control over her. It was the last thing she ever wanted to be thought of by anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy. She just stared at him with a straight face, trying to confuse him with her new ability to show no emotion, as she was known for being a bad liar. Over the months of fooling around, she acquired such skill of acting and lying, knowing it was necessary so her friends and her family wouldn't have an idea of what's really going on with her. It went on for a minute of him raising his eyebrow, and her letting out breaths of boredom a few times just to break the deafening silence.
"I've got to hand it to you, you've changed a lot. But we're not going to get all angst-y about this, are we? I mean, we're adults now. We can handle this like adults."
"Okay, since you've got that in mind; give me my shoes, let me leave in peace so we can pretend that this never happened." She said, finally getting her shoes from its kidnapper. "You swear never to tell anyone about this, okay? I mean it, Malfoy."
"Why would you want to pretend it never happened?" He asked in all sincerity. Hermione could tell from his voice that he had a plan in mind. "I mean, you really don't want this to happen, or for it to happen again? I had a really good time last night."
"Don't toy with me, you don't remember half of it," she assumed as she didn't remember much of last night either. Though she couldn't deny that when she woke up, apart from her headache, she had never felt so excited or satisfied.
"Yes, well. I think I had a really good time last night. Surely, I want it to happen again."
"Whatever, Malfoy. Thanks for the bed," she said in a blur, "I hope this never happens again."
"So you're really leaving? Just like that?" he said, disappointed.
"What is wrong with you, Malfoy? Do you not realize who you just had sex with last night? I'm someone's fiancée, and so are you. What we did last night was wrong."
"So what if it was? You liked it, I can see it in your eyes that you did. Besides, you've been doing this to many guys."
"How would you know that?" she inquired in suspicion. She kept it under wraps for months only to find out that Draco Malfoy, the man she never spoke with in years, knew all about it. She felt her heart drop knowing someone can still see right through her after all the effort of running away. "How could you possibly know that?" she repeated.
"Because I've been doing the same thing. Basically for the same reason you are. Only difference is I'm not in love with her and you're head over heels for him."
She heard her shoes drop on his hardwood floors. Her breathing hastened as she struggled to fight her tears. She felt her world crashing down because what he said was somehow very similar to the sentence she never wanted to hear.
He's not in love with you and you're head over heels for him.
It was true. It had always been that way. Since they were in sixth year, when she realized she had feelings for Ron, until that moment in time, she was so in love with him; it made her do things that she thought she would never do. She wanted to deny it to herself, but hearing even the sentence only a bit similar to it broke her. He was her weakness. And she meant nothing to him but trophy girlfriend.
She sat down on Draco's bed, forgetting her urge to leave. She felt naked in front of him, there's no point in covering it up from her supposed opponent. Tears fell down her cheeks, her Gryffindor pride shuttering to pieces. All of a sudden, she felt Draco sitting next to her, offering comfort. He wiped her tears off her cheeks and smiled.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what I said, but I didn't mean to make you cry. Look, all I wanted was for you to have breakfast with me. Whatever problems you have with Weasley, I'll leave you to it. Just stay with me a little while." He cupped her chin to face him. Holding her hand, he gave her a light kiss on the lips and smiled at her, something utterly different from his trademark sarcastic smirk.
He stood in front of her petite figure and offered his hand, telling her that everything will be fine. They looked at each other blankly once again; Hermione's mind wandering off into a thought of what this incident could possibly do to their once heated rivalry. He may be different right now, but it's still him. Does it really matter? This unsolicited affection won't last. I'll take what I can get. She gave him a weak smile, holding his hand and standing up beside him. He let out a soft chuckle as they walked out of his room.