Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize from Harry Potter is mine!

A/N: Sorry for the long delay! It's been a busy summer and I also suffered from writer's block. Except for the first two chapters, my chapters run anywhere from 3,300 to 4,500 words, so it takes a while to get a chapter to an acceptable length. I don't know how other authors do it! I hope I did this chapter justice. Be sure to periodically check my profile page for updates to the status of my next chapter. Now on to the story!

Recap:

Draco's head suddenly snapped up, though he winced at the sharp movement. "Remember now. Wanted to tell you it's your fault! You and the chipmunk!" He said.

"Chipmunk? You get a little strange when you're drunk, don't you?" Hermione asked, amused.

Draco scoffed. "Malfoys are never drunk. Just ask my mother."

.oOoOo.

He followed the couple out of the ballroom a few minutes later only to discover them climbing into a carriage together. After a minor hesitation, Colin decided to follow the couple to see if he could get some more interesting photos for Miss Skeeter.

.oOoOo.

She contemplated her glass as Luna and Draco continued their discussion on the Falcons' chances in the next game. That was the last thing she remembered before, in confusion, she woke up to the smell of coffee and Luna's ridiculous singing. Draco, on the other hand, was not confused when he woke up. He was, however, annoyed to find that some truly awful howling was echoing around the room and a bush of hair was lodged in his mouth.


It was nothing like flying a broom but it was still so much fun. Ron was having a grand time being lousy at skiboarding. He did feel a little guilty, though, about not bringing Luna along with him, but she seemed fine with staying home the last time he spoke to her. "I thought you were here to help me, not use my skiboard!" Harry called over, a little peeved.

Ron stumbled to a stop next to Harry, who was sitting outside with his knee wrapped up. "Sorry, Mate. But the board's amazing! I think I'm getting better."

"Wish my knee was," Harry grumbled. "I finally go on vacation and I get hurt just a few days into it."

"It's not so bad. You'll be as good as new tomorrow. Knees are tricky to heal with magic," Ron said.

"Okay, it's settled. I've rearranged our schedules so we can do the non-physical stuff now instead of later," Ginny announced as she emerged outside.

"Great, what's first?" Harry asked, eager to get started. He was getting tired of sitting around thinking about his knee, and it had only been about a day since the accident.

"Well, if you wanted to stick with the skiboarding theme, there's an exhibition of professional skiboarders performing some acrobatics in a few hours, or we can go visit the hot springs just a few miles from here," Ginny suggested. "There's a train that will take us over. Tomorrow morning, we're taking a hot air balloon to see the sights."

"I wish I could stay for that," Ron said enviously.

"Can't you take a few days off?" Harry invited. Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Nope, I have to save my days for the honeymoon," Ron explained. "As it is, I'm technically supposed to be working. I'm billing you as a house call, and that's only because you're Harry Potter." Ron's work as a healer kept him busy most days. He had discovered during the war that he had a surprising knack for mending and healing bone-related injuries, and was accepted into an accelerated healer training program directly after the war. He now worked at a private practice located in proximity to St. Mungo's.

"I guess my name is good for something," Harry remarked. "It's given me nothing but trouble in the press."

"And now poor Hermione's getting the brunt of it," Ginny added in sympathy.

"Which reminds me, Ginny and I were thinking of doing something about starting a rumor about Rita Skeeter to get her off our backs. Any suggestions?"

"Plenty, but they wouldn't be as good as something Fred and George would come up with," Ron said. "I think we should owl them for some ideas."

"Who's good at research? There's bound to be stuff in Rita's past that she doesn't want to be released," Ginny remarked.

Ron shrugged. "I would say Hermione, but you know she would have used something by now if she knew of anything."

Harry agreed. "There's always Percy, but I don't think anyone's talking to him right now." Percy was cautiously allowed back in the family, but everyone was still mad at him for marrying Penelope Clearwater without telling the family about it. As it was, Mrs. Weasley still refused to talk to anyone about Penelope if her name ever was mentioned.

"You got that right. Wait 'til Mum hears that Penelope's pregnant," Ron remarked.

"She's pregnant?" Ginny said in shock. She couldn't even imagine little Percy replicas running around.

Harry laughed. "With any luck, any kids they have will act like the twins."

Ron shuddered. "So long as they don't act like Percy, I don't care."

"I guess we should throw a baby shower. We're going to be aunts and uncles, you know," Ginny said reluctantly. Ginny thought that she and Percy were pretty close growing up, but these days, she just didn't know what to think anymore.

"Maybe this will soften Molly up about Penelope," Harry said. "We can suggest that she throw the baby shower in honor of her first grandchild."

"I don't know what Bill and Fleur are going to say," Ginny said in worry. Due to a stray curse aimed in Fleur's direction during a battle, she was unable to have children. It was a painful topic for the couple.

"We'll deal with it if the situation comes up. But there's nothing we can do about it now," Ron said. "Back to Skeeter. Do you think she has a secret love child somewhere? Had an affair with a Ministry official?"

"Or maybe just hint that she has someone else do all the writing while she takes the credit, sort of something like what happened with Gilderoy Lockhart," Ginny suggested.

"Nah, I like Ron's idea that she slept her way to the top to get her job," Harry grinned.

"But who would sleep with her? She's likely to print stuff about you if you disagree with her," Ginny replied. Harry had to admit that it sounded like something Rita would do.

"Hey, Imelda Quinby is her rival, right?" Ron asked. "Maybe we can get her to help us?"

Harry shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

The three agreed to work out the best way to approach Imelda once Harry and Ginny returned from vacation. "I only have a couple hours left before I have to head out. You want to catch that acrobatics show?" Ron suggested. Harry agreed, but still groused about having to watch someone fly rather that fly himself. Ginny merely patted Harry on the shoulder as she led the way to the performance.

.oOoOo.

Imelda enjoyed Sunday mornings. It was her one day off and she typically spent it close to home, since her work involved so much socializing. Today, however, was dedicated to work. She had to write something positively amazing for Monday morning's paper. The tidbits she added to this morning's paper about Draco and Hermione would act as teasers for a much more detailed story on Monday, and she needed to comb through her sources again to make sure she didn't miss anything.

She hated to admit it, but Rita Skeeter's lies and sensationalistic form of writing was starting to harm her own readership, and it was difficult to stop herself from stooping to Rita's levels in an effort to sell more articles. So what could she write that would really grab someone's attention? Imelda was drawing a blank, which frustrated her to no end.

An owl tapped on her window, just then, carrying a package of extra photos Colin Creevey had taken last night. Imelda absentmindedly rummaged through them as she concentrated on discovering a new angle for her story. A few photos caught her attention. One photo of the dance floor revealed that Hermione Granger seemed to be dancing with someone. It was difficult to tell who it was she was dancing with, since the couple kept moving out of the photo, but she did notice the image of Draco Malfoy hidden in a corner of the photo, looking quite displeased as he watched the couple.

Perhaps there was a story to tell, after all. She just needed to learn more about this mysterious gentleman that was seen with Miss Granger. It could turn out to be nothing, of course, but Imelda decided that it wouldn't hurt to do at least a little digging to see what could be revealed. If she was going to have to work on her day off, at least it would be productive, Imelda reasoned.

.oOoOo.

Luna always thought she ought to have been a performer. She felt she could draw a crowd if the need arose. At the moment, she was enthusiastically singing the refrain to her favorite song as she brewed some potions for Hermione. She had a feeling her friend would need it after overindulging last night. Thinking of last night, it was such fun getting to know Draco. Who knew one could learn so much about a person from a game of truth or dare? With the potion done, she poured herself another cup of coffee and pondered whether she should make some breakfast.

Luna absolutely loved mornings, but unfortunately, most of her friends did not share the same sentiment. She wished Ginny was home. They always had the best time together the morning after a good party or dinner. Another fun song played on her favorite radio station. She turned the volume higher and swayed to the music. Sipping her coffee, Luna wondered when Hermione and Draco were going to wake up. And would they be up for some pancakes?

.oOoOo.

Just a few rooms away, Draco was wide awake and feeling a little anxious. He was hungry and had a sudden urgent need to use the facilities. Unfortunately, Hermione was a sound sleeper and she had a death grip on his arm. With his other hand, he tried disentangling some of her massive amounts of hair from his face. His mouth felt cottony and he wished he could reach his wand so that he could get rid of the sensation. So what was the best way to get her up? Or at least get her to let go of his arm?

Hermione woke up slowly with an intense headache and a strange poking sensation on her shoulder. How could it possibly be morning already when she didn't even remember going to bed? Hermione felt truly awful and hated overindulging. She moved to turn her head and yelped in sudden pain. "Crooks! Stop that! Bad kitty," she reprimanded. She hated it when Crookshanks slept by her head. Her hair ultimately got yanked and a minor battle would ensue as she attempted to pry her hair from Crooks' claws.

"I'm insulted. First you liken me to Weasley and now you think I'm your cat," Draco replied. Now that Hermione had let go of his arm, he attempted to massage some feeling back into it.

Hermione shrieked and fell off the bed. "What do you think you're doing here!"

Draco leaned over the bed to watch Hermione try to scramble away. "Do you need some help?"

Hermione slipped on something and landed on her bum again. She glared at Draco, blaming him for her trouble. "No! Stay away from me. Better yet, get out of my room!" Hermione sat up and pointed at the door. Wait a minute, her door moved. In fact, this wasn't even her room. Just where the heck was she?

Draco sensed her confusion. "You decided your room needed some redecorating last night," Draco explained.

"But it looks like a harem! This couldn't possibly be my idea! And my bed is facing the wrong direction!"

"Don't be ridiculous. There's no wrong way to position a bed." Draco looked around. "As for it looking like a harem, you do seem to have a lot of color in here, don't you? But I think it looks nice."

In another attempt to stand up, Hermione sent several silk floor pillows scattering and yanked a fuchsia scarf down from the ceiling. "You need to leave my room!"

"Not a morning person, are you?" Draco replied in sympathy. Hermione glared at him. "That's alright, I need to get up anyway. Why don't you go get dressed?" With that, Draco grabbed his wand and left her room, closing the door to her room behind him.

At Draco's suggestion to get dressed, Hermione looked down at herself in horror, but was relieved to find that she was decent in some pajama bottoms and an old shirt she stole from one of the boys. She buried her face in her hands and groaned. Through the door, she could hear Luna and Draco talking.

"Morning Draco! Pancakes?" Luna called.

"Love some!" Draco responded before closing the door to what Hermione suspected was the bathroom.

Hermione frowned in alarm. Luna didn't sound surprised by Draco leaving her room. She couldn't remember much of last night. Did she do anything she'd regret? Did she say anything? And why was Draco here in her room anyway? Did they…? No, they couldn't have! So just what exactly happened last night?

She rushed through her morning ablutions and shuffled to the kitchen. "Luna?"

"I'm making breakfast. You want some pancakes? Oh! There's some potions for you on the table. I thought you might need some."

"Thanks," Hermione said gratefully. "And no food for me, thanks." She quickly downed the bottle and wrinkled her nose at the taste of licorice. She vowed never to drink again if she was going to feel so nauseous the next day that the taste of a simple potion was a trial.

"At least have some coffee," Luna advised.

Hermione turned back to check if Draco was in sight before facing Luna again. "Okay quick, you have to tell me everything that happened last night!"

"Well, not much really. Although I didn't know you were such a great dancer. Where did you learn those moves?"

Hermione nearly laughed in relief. "So I just danced? Well, that's fine, then."

"Mmhmm," Luna murmured in agreement. "I didn't know you could do stuff like that on poles."

Hermione was sure her eyes had popped out of their sockets. "I WHAT?"

Luna laughed. "No, not really, but you should see the look on your face."

Hermione glared and threw a spoon at her. "So what did happen?"

"You showed us your otter tattoo. That was interesting," Luna replied.

"Was it still on my back when I showed it to you?" Hermione asked hopefully. Although she had gotten the tattoo on her back, the otter tended to travel quite a bit further south than her back on most occasions.

"Not really," Luna admitted. "But Draco seemed to really like it."

Hermione covered her eyes in humiliation. "I'm never going to be able to face him again."

"Well you're the one who chose dare," Luna pointed out.

"What?"

"Truth or Dare," Luna clarified. "It was supposed to be 20 Questions, but I thought it would be more fun to play Truth or Dare."

Hermione now had vague memories of playing. "Is that why my room looks the way it does?"

Luna's eyebrows shot up in response. "I don't know anything about your room. That must have happened after I went to bed."

"So why was Draco still here when I woke up?"

Luna speculated about the state of Hermione's room, but chose not to comment on it, knowing Hermione wouldn't tell her anyway, so she shrugged again. "Again, I don't know. I got a call from Ron last night and went to bed right after. You'll have to ask Draco."

Hermione groaned. She didn't want to ask him. Was there a charm somewhere or maybe a potion that could help people remember their actions when they've had too much to drink? "At least tell me if I revealed anything about myself last night during this game we played."

Luna sat down, thinking. "Nothing I didn't already know about you."

Hermione glared at Luna. "But were they anything Draco didn't already know?"

Luna looked puzzled. "How would I know what you already told Draco and what you didn't?"

Hermione stared at her friend in frustration. "Just tell me everything!"

The bathroom door slammed shut just then. "I don't smell pancakes," Draco announced from the hallway.

"Go make them yourself," Hermione said with some irritation. Couldn't he have stayed in the bathroom just ten or fifteen minutes longer?

"I'm about to put them on the griddle," Luna told him cheerfully. "How many would you like? How about you, Hermione? Are you sure you don't want some?"

"I'm sure," Hermione said firmly. Just the thought of eating right now made her stomach lurch.

"I'll take whatever," Draco said as he entered the kitchen.

Hermione could feel a headache coming on as she watched Draco and Luna chat about the benefits of breakfast and the wonders of pancakes. This was definitely not how she pictured her Sunday morning. So why was it that only Hermione was feeling this way this morning? And she was sure Draco must have had much more to drink than she had.

Draco glanced in Hermione's direction and received another freezing glare for his trouble. "Is she always this grouchy in the mornings?" He asked Luna in a false whisper.

Luna giggled, still wondering about Hermione's room. "You mean you don't know?"

Hermione's jaw dropped again. "I can't believe you even said that, Luna!"

Draco looked admiringly at Luna. "Not too subtle about fishing for information, are you?"

"I couldn't help it. I saw the opportunity and pounced."

"I'm not going to satisfy your curiosity," Draco announced out of consideration for Hermione's feelings.

Again, another opportunity presented itself. "I'll bet Hermione satis-" The rest of Luna's statement was muffled by a large pancake that Hermione shoved into Luna's mouth.

"Why don't you finish your breakfast?" Hermione said threateningly.

Draco and Luna exchanged meaningful glances, and finished their pancakes in silence. Hermione sighed. She hated that look. Ron and Harry had been exchanging such glances since first year at Hogwarts. "I'm going to go change," she told them. By the time she returned to the kitchen fully dressed, the kitchen was spotless and Luna was gone, having left a note about having to go run some errands for her father. Hermione felt much more like herself again, now that the potion had finally kicked in.

Draco was still sitting at the table when Hermione moved over to make herself some coffee. "I should be heading out, too," Draco said.

"Um, before you go, could we talk?" Hermione asked nervously. While in her room, she decided to work past her pride and embarrassment and ask Draco what happened last night. It might be humiliating, but at least she'd know.

"What is it?" Draco asked cautiously.

"I don't remember what happened last night," she replied in a rush.

"I thought so," Draco replied.

"So did we do anything last night that I ought to know about?" Hermione pressed.

Draco's smile turned wicked. "Well, you showed me your tattoo." He declined to mention that she let him touch it. But he couldn't help it. Who knew otters could be so sexy?

"Yes, Luna told me about the otter," Hermione said unhappily. "She said she went to bed early. Was there a reason why you were, er, sleeping next to me this morning?"

"We talked after Luna left the room and you got it into your head that you wanted to redecorate your room."

"So all we did was redecorate?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"We snogged a little, but you fell asleep on me," Draco accused.

Hermione laughed at his chagrined look. "Thank you."

"What? You're not going to throw a fit about us kissing?" Draco asked with some confusion.

"Of course not. It's much less than I feared. And anyway, it sounds like we didn't even do that for long. Well, thanks for telling me. I won't keep you if you need to get going," Hermione said.

"Hold on a minute," Draco said as he caught up with her back in her sitting room. He didn't like that she could so readily throw him out of her house. "You did make me a promise last night before you fell asleep."

"What promise?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

Draco grinned again. "To finish what you started last night." Draco took the opportunity to pull Hermione forward and brought her mouth closer for a satisfying kiss.

Hermione was shocked and overwhelmed. Draco's hands wandered down to her hips, and through the fabric, he unerringly found the otter again. Hermione yelped at the otter's sudden movement. That was all the invitation Draco needed before his tongue slipped inside.

She could taste the syrup he had on his pancakes and shivered when he ran a finger down her spine in search of the runaway otter. Hermione hesitantly kissed him back and heard him groan as he led her to the couch behind her. The bumped into the coffee table on the way, but that was quickly ignored. His fingers tightened around her waist and she clenched the muscles in his shoulders to pull him closer. His lips had just traveled to her neck when her front door slammed shut.

"Hermione Granger! This had better not be that Adrian character you are kissing!"

Hermione froze and looked past Draco's shoulder. "Daddy! What are you doing here?"

"Are you Adrian Pucey? The one that's been in Hermione's wizarding papers? Because I have a few words for you," Mr. Granger demanded.

"You can't just come barging into my home," Hermione said as she and Draco scrambled apart.

"You didn't answer my knock and I thought I heard some sort of scuffle in here so I used your spare key," he explained as he glowered at Draco.

"This is not Adrian. This is a boy I'm, er, dating," Hermione explained.

"Mr. Granger, I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco introduced.

Hermione's father did not take Draco's proffered hand. "Malfoy. Yes, my daughter's mentioned you. You're that boy that gave her trouble in school."

Hermione laughed nervously. "Daddy, that was a long time ago."

"I came by to take a look at the sink you said was giving you some trouble yesterday," Mr. Granger said stiffly.

"Oh, the sink. It's the one in the guest bathroom," Hermione replied.

"You mean the drip? I fixed it this morning when I noticed it," Draco said apologetically.

An uncomfortable moment passed. Hermione bit her lip, waiting for her dad's response. Seeing his daughter's nervous gesture, Mr. Granger gave an internal sigh. "Bring him to dinner. Your mother will want to meet him," he directed. Hermione beamed and nodded and walked him to the door. They chatted at the doorway for a few minutes before he turned to give Draco a stiff nod of farewell.

Hermione closed the door behind him and turned to Draco. "So, do you want to come to dinner?"