Hermione arrived at The Three Broomsticks and stepped through the already open door. She shuffled her shoes on the welcome mat, getting rid of any muck from her shoes and released her hand from her wand which had been settled in her back pocket, waiting to be drawn to hex any passer-by who caused trouble as she walked through Hogsmeade.

She nodded at the old bartender and gave him a warm smile. She took down her hood as she ordered a butterbeer - something which had a warming feeling as it coated the throat and a sweet and comforting taste to settle the stomach.

"I'll deliver it to your table." The bartender offered kindly.
"It's alright, thanks, save yourself the trouble." She replied, turning to press her back against the counter and leaning back on her elbows as she scanned the room.

She immediately straightened as her eyes met the short dishevelled platinum hair in the corner.
Malfoy.
Her eyes lingered for a moment, as she watched to see him send back a shot of clear liquid, before she turned back to see the bartender placing her butterbeer on the counter.
"Thank you." She mumbled, picking up the tankard with two hands and turning to see Malfoy send back another shot.

She frowned. It seemed to her like he was drowning his sorrows.
She thought about going to sit next to him, to console him. After all, she felt sorry for the young man, it was obvious to her he was being dragged into his father's affairs. But she brushed off the idea with the slightest of shrugs, and went to sit at a table by herself.
She placed her tankard on the table and slipped into the chair, then took a small book from her coat pocket and slipped her fingers to the edge of the book, she dipped her fingers under the pages at the bookmark and flipped it open to the page she left off at earlier.
She needed to learn more defensive spells against the dark arts, and her spare time was proving to be less spare.

Her hand travelled to the tankard and she lifted it to her lips and took a small sip, she removed it from her lips and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling self-conscious. She brought the tankard to her mouth again and gulped the liquid. She wiped her hand over her mouth again, and then placed the cup back on the table; about in inch of liquid left in the bottom.

She sighed, her mind feeling tired.
Her gaze wandered upwards, her eyes meeting the grey storm clouds within Draco Malfoy's.
His eyes flickered with recognition,
"What are you looking at, Mudblood?" he crowed, she wasn't sure if he was slightly drunk or not.
Her eyes darted downwards, back to her book. Then she looked up again, burping uncontrollably under her breath and covering her mouth. Her eyes fluttered back to Draco's.

Hermione stood up calmly, she brushed her hair back from her face, pocketed her book, downed the leftover liquid in the tankard and smoothed her clothes.
She pushed her chair in and remained composed as she slinked over the bar, cup in hand, and placed it on the counter. She spilled some coins from her pocket onto the bar, finishing just as the bartender placed another tankard next to her hand. She moved her hand to her pocket to find more coins but the bartender stopped her,
"It's on the house." He said with a nod, collecting the coins and taking away her previous tankard.
"Sure?" she asked as he was hobbling away.
"Yeah, we've had a busy day, don't need the money. You look troubled, it's all yours." He replied, as he turned back and patted her hand, then carried on shuffling away.

Hermione lifted the drink, sipping the froth from the top before turning her back to the bar.
"I said, what are you looking at? You filthy little Mudblood." Draco sneered with more force.
Hermione sighed and walked slowly over to him.
She placed her tankard on the table with a loud thunk, and sat across from him.
She sat forward and folded her arms.
"What is your problem Malfoy?" she hissed.
"You keep looking at me." He replied with a smirk.
Hermione wanted nothing more than to reach over and smack him across the face.
"I wasn't." she said sharply. Moving his nine shot glasses in front of him out of the way.
"You were Granger."
"Well, it might be in your interest to know that you were looking back." She quipped.
"So you we're looking."
"Maybe I was looking at you, for the same reason why you were looking at me."
"Which was?" he raised an eyebrow.
"No idea." She quickly picked up her tankard and sipped, keeping eye contact.
"Maybe you wanted company." He said rather sadly.
"Is that why you were staring?" she replied, placing her tankard back on the table.
"Maybe. But now I have it, I might as well not waste it. Especially when I'm feeling troubled and lonely."
Usually Hermione would have disagreed, but she had been feeling rather lonely lately too. Maybe it was the alcohol making them feel more at ease than usual with each other….
"Troubled?" she probed gently.
Draco blinked rapidly, obviously wishing not to have added the last sentence.
"No." he hissed, obviously lying.
"Want to talk it over?" she asked, placing her hand on his arm.
"Why would I tell you? You wouldn't believe me. You wouldn't understand." he growled.
Why not tell her? It's not like she couldn't keep her mouth shut if you asked her to. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry." He corrected himself quickly, smoothing his shirt and clicking his fingers at the bartender for another shot. Hermione got up to retrieve it, unsure how unsteady Draco's legs would be, and not wanting the old man to have to limp his way over.

When she placed two shots on the table, he looked up into her light chocolate brown eyes, framed by her dark honey coloured curls, and suddenly forgot she was a rival. Words spilled from his lips faster than he could stop them. At least he could blame the alcohol.
She sipped her butterbeer whilst he talked, she devoured every word and processed it with equal care and scrutiny.
"He's going to kill my dad if I don't do what he says." Draco mumbled. "I have to do what he says."
"No you don't."
"He chose me." He hissed. "All I want is to be normal. To be good."
"And you can be." Hermione whispered.
"I've never had the choice." He growled, his jaw clenching.
She slapped him across the face.
His hand flew to the white-hot sting at his cheek.
"Of course you've had the choice." She replied, leaning back in her chair away from his grip.

He looked up at her, nothing but bewilderment in his eyes beneath his thick curled lashes. "You were just never pushed towards the right choices." She slipped her right hand on top of his left which rested atop the table. He didn't pull back, he simply glanced at his hand, and then back at her "You chose to do what everybody told you to do. You were pressured into making choices you didn't fully understand." She said, looking into his eyes. She put her butterbeer down.
He tore his eyes away, an uncomfortable shift in his lower stomach making him uneasy. He took back the shot in front of him.

Nobody had ever understood him before. The way he'd been brought up to dislike muggles and "mudbloods", to think that "purebloods" were in fact a pure race, now he was older, it seemed too absurd. He wanted to be different. He wanted to change for the better.
He interlocked the fingers of his left hand with those of her right, his thumb rubbing circles into the side of her thumb.
Her eyes bore into his with such a kindness, that he couldn't help the butterflies which flittered within his stomach.
"The nightmares that come at night…" he whispered. She pressed her careful fingers to his lips and shook her head, hating to see or hear him so helpless. It made her feel useless, that she couldn't help. She removed her fingers gently. The fingers of her other hand still intertwined with his.

Cautiously, he moved the drinks out of the way on the table as he leaned across to her, he didn't have a drunken mind, but his body was unsteady. He reached across to place his hand at the back of her neck and leaned in, he hesitated an inch away from her lips and waited for her to make the connection. She leant in and placed a small and hesitant peck on his lips, it left tingles in its wake.

As soon as they pulled away, he blinked rapidly and stood up.
"I'm sorry Hermione." He babbled, downing his last shot and turning to push his chair under the table. He turned, but she was behind him, the shock of her name being surrendered to her upon his lips. The kindled affection which now lay in her stomach as she realised he was a lovely yet misguided and misled young man made her mind rush as he moved to push past her.
"Draco." He wheeled unsteadily, his name unfamiliar on her lips.

She stepped closer and reached up, hooking one hand behind his head and the other resting at his shoulder. She pressed her head to his chest as she waited for his embrace.
His arm made its way down, and his hand finally settled in the small of her back, the other hand reached up, and tilted her face to his.
She reached up as he leant down, and their lips met again, this time more forceful, less hesitant. Her hand moved from his shoulder and to his chest and the small fire kindled in her stomach again, growing as they deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers, their mouths closed and tentative.
He pulled away, as flushed as her. He wobbled.
"Where are you staying?" she asked gently, his face turned to hers, as if she was suggesting something naughty, "Because I doubt you can make it back to Hogwarts in the state you are in the dark." She smiled, knowing his assumption.
"Here." He whispered. "I'll get a room upstairs. It's Friday, so I won't be missed if I wake up late tomorrow."

Hermione detangled herself from him and he made to move toward the counter to ask and pay for a room, he wobbled slowly toward the stairs with his room key, the alcohol obviously now present in his bloodstream. Hermione intercepted him.
"Let me help." She offered, gently guiding him towards the stairs and following him up them. They found the room, and Draco fumbled with the key, trying to force it into the lock, unable to find the keyhole. Hermione took the key from him and expertly slipped it into the keyhole and turned it, she removed the key and ushered him into the room, flicking the lamp on with her wand. It made a small yellow glow, which added comfort to the simple room.

Once they were both inside she shut the door and locked it, placing the key on the desk beside her. Draco took off his coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. Then he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his socks.
She turned to find Draco with his wand in his hand. "Accio pyjamas." He mumbled, and placed his wand on the bedside table, and seconds later the window opened and in flew some pyjama pants. He caught them deftly despite his drunken state, and unzipped his jeans, he pulled them down and then sat down on the curtained double bed. Hermione turned her back, not wishing to be intrusive to his privacy.
"It's alright," he whispered seconds later "you can turn around now."
She turned slowly, to find him with his pyjama pants on, "Could you help me?" he asked, lifting the corners of his t-shirt. She walked over and carefully took hold of the hem of his t-shirt, she lifted and he lifted his arms straight up in the air. As she peeled the t-shirt away from his skin, she noticed all the little stitches from lacerations in his skin and immediately knew which spell had caused it.
"Sectumsempra?" she whispered under her breath.
His face contorted as she reached his chest but once the t-shirt was at his face she could no longer see his expression. She tugged the t-shirt over his head and folded it, placing it on the desk beside the door. Then tended to his jeans. He had no pyjama top to put on, obviously letting air to his healing wounds.
Hermione was silent, thoughts and feelings jumping around all over her head.

Draco stood and walked around the bed, slowly and carefully so as not to bump into anything.
He stood at the side of the bed and peeled back the bed covers, he sat on the side of the bed and swivelled to put his legs underneath the covers, then snuggled down into the bed sheets, his abs just visible above the covers as he rested his hands behind his head.
Hermione walked over to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then turned to go.
"Stay with me." Draco whispered almost to himself. Hermione turned. "I mean…. It's dark outside," He corrected, fumbling for an excuse. "and you really don't want to be walking back to Hogwarts on your own at this time. It's likely that the doors are locked."
She contemplated his offer. He was right. And she did want to stay. But what would she tell everyone tomorrow? The girls from her dorm were sure to know she'd been missing all night. Although, she could pretend she fell asleep in the library and wasn't woken up by the librarian.

She walked back over to the bed, she took her wand out of her pocket and whispered "Accio pyjamas.", Draco smiled.
As her pyjamas shot through the window, she caught them and undressed and re-dressed quickly, showing as little flesh to Draco as possible.
She walked over to the wardrobe, opened it and pulled down a blanket from the top shelf. She then walked over to the chair by the dresser and sat in its small frame, draping the blanket around herself.
"What are you doing?" Draco mumbled from the bed, watching her.
"About to go to sleep." She replied. He smirked.
"You don't need to sleep in the chair. There's a double bed here." He was chuckling now, he was happier than she'd ever seen him.
Hermione was unsure. If it was plain sleeping, that was fine. If he had something else in mind she didn't particularly fancy climbing in next to him.

She stood up, deciding she could shove him off if he tried anything, and that he was probably too tired and tipsy to try anything anyway.
She let go of the blanket and Draco watched as it pooled around her ankles, she shivered as the cold air touched her bare arms. She tip-toed over to the bed with bare feet and placed her wand on the bedside table. She prised open the covers and slipped beneath them. She picked up her wand from the bedside table and whispered "Nox." and all light went out. She put back her wand and turned onto her back, the bed sheets rustling. She snuggled down, cold and shivering.

After a few minutes, Draco whispered
"Granger? Err, Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you cold?" he asked, almost annoyed, like she was keeping him awake.
"Sorry to keep you awake with my shivering, but yes." She almost hissed back.
His hand found her waist beneath the covers and she squealed.
"Shut up…" he whispered at her outburst. "You want to be warm don't you?"
He rolled her to face him and pulled her to him, gently, as if trying not to scare her off. As he moved forward and pressed his body to hers, she held her breath. Warmth radiated from his torso and he shivered as she lifted her hands to press them there. Her head fell against his chest as instant warmth came to her.
"Thank you." She whispered. He didn't acknowledge her with a reply.

She turned in his arms, and for an awful moment he thought she was going to leave. She moved herself back into his arms and pressed her back against his chest, his warmth calming her.
They drifted to sleep; her left hand in his, tangled in her unruly curls. Her right hand on top of his, resting on her hip.

I hope you enjoyed this! Reviews are greatly appreciated and very welcome! Thank you.