Author's Note: I'm sure you're all complete tired of my nonsense; but in short – writers block, too much drinking, thanksgiving, finals, passing out on the library floor, and now writing :) Next Update is Tuesday; I swear and if it isn't up I give you all permission to hate mail, flame me, or just completely ignore my story; which I REALLY wouldn't like.
The next morning Malfoy woke up, face plastered against the cold hard wood floor, still grasping the empty whiskey bottle in his fist. Pushing off the floor, as his head raised less than a foot, it slammed back down into the floor. The pulse that seemed to beat separately in three places of his skull, and in each of his fingers forced him to completely reconsider ever standing up again. The pressure on the outside of his skull was insane, and the only place he should feel a heartbeat was silent; and with that he dozed back off.
Hermione woke up in the purple haze that filled her room, as the sunlight was just starting to beam through the fog outside. She couldn't even bring herself to completely open her eyes; they stayed half open as time passed. She watched as golden light flooded the room, as it changed to the pale blue pink light of afternoon, she ignored the tapping of the Ministry owl, and she watched as her room gained the blackness from the night prior. Only then did she close her eyes.
Malfoy awoke to a tapping on the top of his skull. He opened his left eye, as his right eye was still flush with the wood floor; and elf he wasn't truly sure which one was hovering over him.
"Mister Malfoy, the ministry has been sending for you." It squeaked, and even its normal obnoxious tone sounded as if a Chinese gong got hit multiple times next to his ear. At this point he must have been asleep for more than a full day and he still felt hung-over. He shot the elf a horrid look and disapparated with a crack.
He landed in a modern flat, but modern was more of a euphemism the flat was cold, dark and empty. He hated it here, but he needed her, he needed someone. Pulling himself off the floor he sat on the cold leather seat next to the door. She'd be back soon.
Astoria Greengrass popped into the front room of her flat, and set her purse down along with multiple shopping bags. She quickly rushed into the kitchen to place vials of potion ingredients on the shelf. As she stomped back into the foyer, she quickly grabbed her wand and crouched as she noticed a blackbody sitting within her home.
"Put it down Greengrass. It's me." Malfoy managed to exude confidence, force and sex appeal; even though all he wanted to do was whisper. Noises hurt.
"Bloody hell Malfoy." She lowered her wand and glared at the dark figure in the corner, she slowly waved her wand lighting the candles along the wall. Just as quickly as they lit, they went out in rapid succession. Malfoy followed her wand movement quickly extinguishing them.
Astoria left them after her failed attempt, "Why are you here Draco?"
"I'm hung-over." It was a fact, and she'd know what he wanted.
"Oh god you're a baby." She stopped staring at him and walked back into the kitchen. He heard the glorious noises of magic starting to make pots, pans and heat create a hangover remedy.
"So, rough weekend with Granger?" her curiosity shouted around the corner. He wanted to make a snide remark, he wanted to ignore her, but all he could focus on was the sinking feeling that accompanied her remark.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but his feelings, or his current physical state. He opened his eyes to a now dimly lit room, plates of hot food, and a few mugs of stemming liquids sat around the small table. He rose and sat down across the table from Astoria who was nursing a huge mug of hot tea.
Malfoy started cramming fatty meats, thick breads, hot soup and pasta down his throat as she starred at him. They never spoke much; honestly this was the only time they interacted. They never worked out, and they never would have worked out. Astoria was the mother figure he never had, the one that cared for him. But she was also too much like his mother, narcissistic, manipulative, and conniving.
That's why he liked Hermione; she was sweet, but powerful. She was selfless, let wouldn't let you walk all over her. Holy shit, he just admitted to actually liking Granger. Good thing Astoria can't read minds that might make this conversation slightly awkward.
Malfoy just starred at her blankly, her shallow orbs trying to decipher her next question. Astoria stood and walked over to Malfoy, as she wrapped her thin arms around his shoulders she placed her lips close to his ear.
"You know we still belong together Draco. That ring should be wrapped around my ring finger, not hung around the mud-bloods neck." And with that she ran her nails around the base of his neck. He felt controlled manipulated. And he hated her for calling Hermione a mud-blood.
Malfoy stood rapidly, "Thanks for dinner, Astoria. But it's still over." He looked at her supercilious face and apparated out of the room with a pop.
That's when he knew. He knew this wasn't a huge favor to Hermione anymore. He knew she had awoken some desire in him, some desire to have someone. It wasn't a child, like Hermione wanted; it wasn't a higher place in society like Astoria wanted. He just wanted a wife, a best friend, someone to jinx when he got bored. He almost cracked a smile as the thought spun through his head.
He couldn't be the aloof Malfoy anymore. He wouldn't keep to himself anymore. He'd find someone perfect. Perfect for him.
AN: Please Review :)