2. "Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey" John Mayer
Hermione was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The White Wyvern had been a bold choice, but it was the one place she knew she wouldn't run into any one she knew and have to explain herself. She kept her head down, gliding swiftly through the crowd and took a seat at the end of the bar. A dark haired witch approached to take her drink order. The clothes she donned made Hermione want to throw Holy water on her. Only the barest minimum amount of skin was covered, the rest flashing for everyone to see. She found herself flushing as the witch arrived in front of her and Hermione was forced to look at her. She chastised herself internally, Stop being such a prude!
"Are you going to order, or continue ogling me?" The witch snapped, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow in question.
"Oh! I wasn't- I mean, I just- It's been a long night. I'll take... um, what would you suggest?"
The witch scoffed and rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth, presumably to make some smart retort, but a cold, familiar voice stopped her.
"Two shots of your finest fire whiskey," Hermione turned to face him as he settled himself onto the bar stool next to her, "And keep them coming."
The witch's eyes widened in suprise and then narrowed. She hmph'd, turning on her heel and stomping away. Hermione continued to stare at him without speaking, waiting for him to explain himself.
"Granger," he gave a curt nod, a smirk playing at his lips. "It's been a while."
"Yes, four blissful months of peace." She said, rolling her eyes.
"Nearly five. Nice to see you've been counting the minutes since we last saw each other. I'm sure it's been agony for you, not being able to look upon this face." He winked and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.
"Hardly."
Draco chuckled and the witch returned with their shots, slamming them down in front of them so that the liquid inside sloshed over the brims. She shot a withering look at Hermione before turning and returning to the opposite end of the bar.
"Good grief, you'd think I set her cat on fire." She muttered, wondering why the woman had taken such a sudden and intense disliking of her. Surely it wasn't because she wasn't sure what drink to order. That would be ridiculous.
Draco cleared his throat, trying to reign in the grin spreading across his face. "Um, no. That was me."
"You set her cat on fire?" Hermione exclaimed, turning to look at him in disbelief.
"Well, not in the literal sense, no." He tossed his shot back.
"I don't understand what you mean." Hermione said, throughly confused, bringing the small glass to her lips and taking a sip. "Ugh. That's terrible."
Draco chuckled. "You get used to it after 3 or 4."
Hermione cocked an eyebrow in blatant disbelief, but took another sip any way. Tonight was about doing things she normally wouldn't, so she finished the drink off and clanked it down on the bar top.
"So, what brings you to Knockturn Alley, Granger? It doesn't really seem like your scene. Library too busy, I suppose?" Draco smirked, holding his empty glass up and making eye contact with the disgruntled bar keep. She stomped over with the bottle to refill their shots. "Leave the bottle." Draco said. The girl slammed it down onto the counter and walked away.
"She seems rather pissy." Hermione muttered, watching the girl retreat. Draco didn't answer, instead he tossed back another shot.
"You never answered my question." He said, turning back to her. She tried to imitate him and take the whole shot at once, but she gagged and sputtered as it scorched down her throat. He reached out and smacked her harshly on the back. When she could finally breathe again, she gasped out, "What question?"
He rolled his eyes. "Why are you here?"
Hermione scowled. "I'm allowed to be wherever I want, Malfoy."
He smirked, "Yes, but where you want to be is usually in the spotlight, not here in the dark, recesses of a bar on the wrong side of town. So, Granger, what's with the change of scenery?"
He refilled her glass and she forced down another shot, this time rather enjoying the dull burn as it descended. "I'm boring." She blurted out, reaching up to clamp a hand over her mouth as it registered that she'd just spilled something that bothered her so personally to someone she hated. Er, strongly disliked. Had his eyes always been so pretty? She flushed, grabbing up her refilled glass and gulping it down.
"Is this a new revelation? Because, Granger, you've always had a broom wedged up your arse and you never seemed to care."
She glared at him as he poured more whiskey into her glass. "It's never had an adverse effect on my life until now."
He arched a blonde eyebrow as he turned completely around on his barstool to face her. "You, Gryffindor's Golden Princess, the Wizarding World's shining star, are having life problems. Oh, do tell, Granger."
Her brain was beginning to fuzz and she scowled at him, picking up her glass and bringing it to her lips to take a sip. Maybe she had better slow down a bit. Draco was still waiting for her to answer and she pointedly ignored him, running her finger around the brim of her glass, making it whistle.
Draco watched as she downed yet another shot. What was that seven? Eight? She smacked her lips, sitting the glass back down on the bar. She had remained stoicly silent for the past ten minutes. He was about to try to goad her a bit, maybe get a rise out of her for a bit of fun when she sighed, turned to face him and said, "I'm in an unhappy relationship that I can't end for risk of losing one of my best friends."
Draco raised his eyebrows, hastily refilling her glass as well as his own. He waited until she had picked her own glass up before tossing his back at the same time she did. "With Weaselbee, I'm assuming?"
"Your assumption is correct." She confirmed, her words slurring the tiniest bit on the end. "He's tired of me. I'm so... me."
Draco frowned, taking a good look at Hermione for the first time that night. She looked like her usual self, aside for purplish circles barely visible underneath her eyes. Her mascara had run a bit and he gathered that she had been crying. For some reason that put him in a fowl mood. He was the only one that should be allowed to make her cry. That right was reserved for him.
"Granger, you've always been you. He liked you before, what's different now?" Aside from much larger breasts, smaller teeth and knowledge of proper hair styling.
"I haven't changed."
Draco scoffed and watched as she downed another shot. "People don't change, princess. That's one constant that you can count on in this fucked up world. People will always show you who they are. Our flaw is that we don't believe them, thus setting ourselves up for immense disappointment in the future."
Hermione's mouth dropped open as she gazed at him in astonishment. He rolled his eyes at the look on her face. "That was a very deep sentiment coming from someone so shallow. Perhaps you've had enough of that," she jutted her chin over to the bottle of fire whiskey.
"Trust me, Granger, I'm just getting started." She arched an eyebrow and poured herself more whiskey. He regarded her warily. She was drinking a lot, making him wonder just how often she consumed alcohol. "You drink a lot?"
"A glass of wine every now and then." She slurred, a smidge of whiskey sloshing over the edge of the tumbler she held in her hand. "Why?"
He looked at her in alarm, reaching over and plucking the glass from her hand. "Hey!" she protested, "What is your deal?"
"My deal, is that this is .80 proof whiskey and you're drinking it like it's tea. What have you had to eat today?"
She giggled, reaching over to place a hand on his left forearm, causing him to flinch. "Oh, lighten up. I'm not letting you spoil my fun. This is probably the only night that this will ever happen."
"That what will ever happen?" He asked, trying to ignore the warm pressure of her hand still gripping over his Morsmordre mark.
"That I'll be getting sloshed in a bar in Knockturn alley with my Death Eater cohort." She giggled again, trying to reach for her glass. He pulled it back farther out of her reach.
"Keep your voice down," he hissed. Most people knew that he had been a Death Eater, but he still didn't like the idea of shouting it from the rooftops. It wasn't as if he were proud of his past.
"Whaaat did I say? That you're a Death Eater?" She asked, her chocolate brown eyes twinkling up at him.
"Yes. Now shut it." He snapped, meeting her gaze cooly.
"You have really pretty eyes," she said suddenly, reaching up to stroke her fingers down his face. He flinched away from her touch as she continued. "They're like two moons."
He couldn't help but grin at her. "Granger, you won't like that you said that in the morning."
She shrugged. "It's true."
"Even so," he leaned back, raking his eyes over her figure. He'd looked her over a lot during their school years. Loathe though he was to admit it to himself, her blood status had been the only thing stopping him from making a move on her. Well, that and the brainless duo always glued to her hips. His father had even mentioned to him once what a pity it was that someone so intelligent wasn't of pure blood.
She was still just as attractive as ever, and a lot less uptight with so many shots of fire whiskey in her.
"What are you staring at Malfoy?" She smirked at him, crossing her long legs and leaning forward slightly. She leaned a bit too far, losing her balance and nearly toppling off of her stool. Draco barely caught her before she fell, crushing her against his chest with a bit more force than absolutely necessary.
"I was looking at your delectable legs, Granger. And wondering what else you've been hiding under your school uniform all these years."
She flushed, quickly becoming flustered. "That- That's highly inappropriate." She stuttered out, glacing up to meet his eyes.
"Why is that?" He smirked at how obviously bothered she was by their close proximity.
"Be-Because I- I have a boyfriend!" She exclaimed, pushing half heartedly against his chest.
He smirked, dipping his head so that his lips were right beside her ear. "One who doesn't appreciate you, Granger." He enjoyed the way she shivered as his breath washed over her. "You deserve to be appreciated, Hermione." He let her name roll off his tongue experimentally.
"Say it again." She whispered, her eyebrows furrowing over her brown eyes.
Draco didn't need to ask her what she meant. "Hermione."
She frowned and he studied her, wondering what was going through her mind. He considered Legilimency, but immediately dismissed the idea. That would only piss her off, so he went with a more direct approach. "What are you thinking?"
She flushed again, and he thought she would refuse to answer. "I like hearing you say my name. Godric, I shouldn't have told you that. Alcohol was a terrible idea."
Draco smirked, secretly pleased with himself. "I'd like to hear you say my name."
She paused, staring at him for a long moment before whispering. "Draco."
"I think it would sound better in a different setting."
Her eyes widened as she realised what he was insinuating. She smacked his arm. "Draco Malfoy!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "This was a terrible idea. I can't believe that I ever thought this would help anything."
He smirked and shrugged. "It's just one night, might as well do it thoroughly."
She scoffed, shooting his a disbelieving look. "You're not actually proposing what I think you are? Are you?"
Draco shrugged. "If you think I'm propositioning you to have sex with me, then yes."
Her eyes widened to almost comical proportions and he grinned.