Song: Waking up in Vegas
Characters: Hermione and Draco

Don't be a baby
Remember what you told me
Shut up and put your money where your mouth is
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now
That's what you get for waking up in Vegas
~Katy Perry

There were just certain activities Hermione Granger didn't do. She didn't drink more than a glass at a time. She didn't strike up conversations with random strangers. She didn't grab onto those random stranger's arm and say, "Let's go somewhere special." Hermione had very good reasons for not doing these activities. Caving into them led her to some pretty strange places.

Hermione had been to Paris, Venice, and Dublin on such trips. Luckily, the first two had been with Ron, her at-the-time boyfriend. Then she'd done it again the night they'd broken up. She still couldn't look Seamus Finnigan in the eye. After vowing that it wouldn't happen again, Hermione made her rules.

Then she broke them.

The room was spinning. Hermione groaned and closed her eyes again. Raising a heavy arm, she ran a hand through the hair splayed on her pillow. It was covered in something small, gritty, and plastic. She picked a piece of the plastic out and held it directly before her now squinting eyes. It sparkled. Confetti?

She groaned, squeezed her eyes shut, and rolled over. Right into another body. Hermione leaped forward away from it, activating her headache and all but killing her. She forced her eyes open to see who it was.

No way. She was in bed with Draco Malfoy.

Hermione stared in shock at the messy blonde hair that stuck out in all directions, despite his head being firmly planted on a pillow. His entire body rested in a curve facing her, one arm and his legs stretching into what had probably started out as her space. Had they fallen asleep spooning? His other arm was folded back so his wrist and hand were supporting his neck. She wondered absent-mindedly if the circulation pinch was putting his limb to sleeve.

She jerked away, nearly tumbling off the bed as he moved. Draco's legs kicked feebly and his arm slid out from under his neck. Both hands stretched out as if searching for her. Scooting as far over as possible without sitting up, Hermione watched as he found her pillow, apparently decided it was suitable, and clutched it to his chest. Hermione took a moment to appreciate the cuteness of a twenty-six year-old man cuddling a pillow before lifting her pounding head to search the room around them.

It wasn't her room, though she knew from the unfamiliar sheets that it wouldn't be. She highly doubted it was Draco's either. It looked like a hotel room, although it was a bit different than any she'd stayed in before. The room was relatively spacious, with a moderate-sized living room area, across from which was, strangely enough, a large bathtub. She felt her cheeks lighting up as she wondered if they'd used it the night before. The sheets felt dry so she assumed no. With a sigh she laid back to stare at the ceiling. There she found the most embarrassing amenity yet. Only above the bed was the ceiling actually a mirror.

Hermione groaned and threw her hands up over her face. What had she gotten into last night? As the bed shifted, she froze. Please, she begged silently, don't let Draco be awake. They'd overcome their differences since the war had ended, but that didn't mean she wanted him to wake up with her in his bed.

No such luck. "Good morning," he said, his cheerful tone splitting her eardrums.

"Skip the pleasantries, Draco," she hissed.

"Someone isn't a morning person."

She moved her hands to glare at him. "Shove off. How are you so chipper anyway? I bet you were drunker than I was."

He chuckled, the sound grating her brain. "It's called an anti-hangover potion. I have no headache and a perfect memory of what happened last night."

"This is why I don't drink," she groaned and flopped her head back down onto the bed, her pillow having been stolen. She could do nothing but stare at her reflection. Draco glanced up and caught her eye in the mirror. He smirked. She growled deep in her throat, turning on her side and tightening the blanket around her.

"You know you were quite fond of that mirror last night."

She sent him a nasty look through the mirror and said nothing.

"Have you ever considered taking a week off for a little fun?"

Hermione jerked around. "Not with you," she snapped. "Where are we anyway?"

"Vegas."

"America?"

He nodded. "You work too much."

She glanced at him over her shoulder in surprise. "How would you know?" she retorted.

Draco smirked again. "You told me."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I did."

"I'm serious. Last night you said so before we came here."

"Where is here exactly?"

"The Imperial Palace Hotel. You told me you were overworked and needed more fun. You told me to give you a little fun. I could give you a little more fun." She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. "I will give you a week here in a fun and strange place with me, no strings attached. You won't have any obligation to me after the week's over."

Hermione sat up, keeping the blanket carefully wrapped around her shoulders. "This sounds like a great offer. You get sex and I go broke in Las Vegas casinos."

Shaking his head, Draco replied, "We can use my money. Besides," he smirked, "you said a lot of things last night. Why don't you put my money where your mouth is?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead she wrapped the blanket around herself and searched out her clothes. "They're covered in glitter!" she exclaimed, realizing that was what probably was in her hair.

He laughed. "You won about 5,000 American dollars last night and got shot with a glitter cannon."

She stared at him in surprise. "I- I did?"

Draco nodded. "I guess you have that beginner's luck. Now, are you in for another week?"

Looking back on it, Hermione wished she could say she'd spent hours on the decision. Instead she'd shaken as much glitter as possible off her dress and said, "I'll need to floo home and let everyone know I'm taking my vacation days."

Three days later, Hermione was feeling reckless. She'd won money, lost possibly two times as much, drank, had fun in their hotel room, and danced at muggle clubs. Never in her life had Hermione felt so wild and indestructible.

Draco, on the other hand, was looking a little worse for wear. The money lost wasn't enough to seriously impact him, but it was still money lost. His hangover potion had mysteriously gone missing, Hermione being the hangover-free suspect. When he wasn't too drunk to remember, their hotel room was a pretty appealing place., but muggle clubs were going to be the death of him, he decided.

Anytime Draco complained, Hermione would roll her eyes and reply, "Remember what you told me. One week in Vegas. I'm not going back to work early or sitting at home."

Their fifth morning in Vegas was the weirdest yet. Surrounding their bed was more glitter than Hermione had ever seen before coming here. They woke up, Hermione literally on top of Draco, and both immediately noticed the ring.

It was a family heirloom that had been passed on down the Malfoy line for generations. Not one of those Malfoys had to resize it, thanks to the enchantment that did so. Now, the ring was on Hermione left hand.

"What happened?" he gasped, pushing her off him as he sat up. Hermione just looked up at him in surprise. "Well?"

She shook her head. "I didn't take the anti-hangover potion last night."

Draco sighed and thanked Merlin for another enchantment of the ring. "Try to take it off," he commanded. "Regardless of who's wearing it, the ring can only be removed by a Malfoy."

Hermione gave the ring a quick tug. The ring moved to her knuckle before resizing itself so it couldn't come off. She let go.

Draco took a deep breath of relief. That would have been difficult to explain to his parents and friends, not to mention hers. He reached forward and slid the ring off her finger. "Are you done with Vegas now?"

Hermione laughed. "Done? How could I be done? You, Draco, promised me two more days here."

You gotta help me out
It's all a blur last night
We need a taxi 'cause you're hung-over and I'm broke
I lost my fake ID but you lost the motel key
Spare me your freakin' dirty looks
Now don't blame me
You want to cash out and get the hell out of town
~Katy Perry