By the time Draco and Theodore had finished half the bottle, Draco was drunk enough to know better but also too drunk to stop himself and so he staggered to his feet and stumbled to the very edge of the warding line. Theodore stood behind him and, with no warning, gave him a brutal shove. Draco fell forward onto the carpeted floor, worn by generations of mostly pureblood girls, and began to curse.
"You could have killed me, you miserable bastard," he swore. "What if the warding was on?"
"They've turned them all off, all over the castle," Theo said with a drunken wave of his hand. "You're fine. I knew you'd be fine. Merlin. You're so fucking overwrought all the goddamned time. Go get your girlfriend so I can make nice and tell her I'm sorry for being imperfect."
Draco pulled himself to his feet and made his way with the careful precision of the inebriated to Hermione Granger's door and began pounding on the heavy wood with the side of his fist. "Hermione," he yelled, "Come out. Need to apologize."
He was raising his hand to hammer on the door again when it opened it and he blinked at the woman on the other side in some confusion. He knew how she dressed to sleep; he'd seen her in her pajamas and these were not what he'd seen before. When they'd gone stargazing she'd been disreputable and rumpled and beautiful and this woman in front of him was beautiful but not at all rumpled or disreputable. She was clad in something fitted and black that looked soft and her hair was pulled back into a neat and pretty braid. He narrowed his eyes and squinted at her trying to figure out why she looked so tidy. Behind him Theodore Nott, equally drunk, was leaning against the wall and trying to peer into her room.
"Let the bastard apologize," Theodore said. "Then come out and share the rest of the fire whiskey bottle with us, pretty, pretty girl."
"Pretty, pretty Mudblood, you mean," Hermione said, closing the door to her room behind her and standing the hallway glaring at both men.
"Oh, Granger," Theodore said. "No one's going to call you names." He smiled at her in a way he meant to be engaging and warm but that just looked sly. "If you don't come out Draco will pout all night."
"I don't think Draco cares to – "
"Merlin fuck," Draco said, interrupting the bitter stream before she could really get started. "I'm sorry I let go of your bloody hand. I was just surprised to see this arsehole was all."
"He was," Theodore confirmed. "Told me to bugger off and that you were the love of his life and that I needed to make peace with that or he'd do something vague and ill-defined but surely unpleasant."
"I did not say she was the love of my life." Draco glared at his friend.
"I exaggerate," Theodore said, sweeping a dramatic, if somewhat ragged, bow toward Hermione. "It is true he never said that." Theodore took a large swallow from the glass he'd never set down. "Though, of course, you are."
Draco looked like he was searching for a way to escape and did actually begin edging back toward the main common room. Hermione sighed.
"You are both as transparent as glass," Theodore said in mock despair. "Come get drunk with us, little Gryffindor, and tell me how much you hate me for my House. I am here to be berated."
"Only if you tell me how much you hate me for my blood," she said, almost glaring at him.
He shrugged and made a shooing gesture to get both her and Draco to return to the place where there were seats and they, both bemused by Theodore, obeyed. "I do not hate your blood," Theodore said. "I do rather despise the Muggle world whence you came." He took a drink. "Muggles are dirty. Filthy. Dangerous. Like mad dogs; so fertile and unpredictable and everywhere. Best avoided lest they bite and pass on some vile illness. Or so I was taught." He shrugged. "In all fairness, I've never known one."
"A Muggle?" Hermione asked him, accepting the drink he poured and held out, "or a rabid dog?"
"Or even a Muggle-born." He smiled at her, an empty smile that could have cut glass. "Such would not have been permitted."
"They have ratty furniture in Gryffindor tower," Draco said, apparently apropos of nothing though Theodore gave him an amused and subtly grateful look for the change of topic. "Ratty."
"Why?" Theodore leaned back and smirked at Hermione. "You can fix anything with magic, repair it, clean it. Why have worn out things?"
"It's cozy," she insisted.
"I doubt it," Theodore said. "This is cozy." He waved his arm to indicate the mostly dark common room with its leather furniture, heavy woods and plush carpets.
"This is the antithesis of cozy," Hermione said.
"We should go see it," Draco announced. "We've shown you ours, now your turn to show us yours."
"My common room," Hermione clarified.
Theodore took a last swallow before he set his tumbler down and stood up. "Exactly. What did you think he meant?"
. . . . . . . . . .
A/N – To answer multiple, varyingly phrased reviews, yes, Theo is gay for the specific purpose of removing even the slightest concern that there will be a romantic triangle. He is explicitly not interested in Draco for the same reason. Draco and Hermione will have sufficient strains on their relationship between House prejudice, blood prejudice, and post-war trauma to not require a romantic rivalry to add drama. Plus, dramione readers are prone to share their disgust at the possibility of anyone moving in on their one true pairing with reviews like "ewwwww" and ones that call 11-year-old girls hussies for approaching a 12-year-old Draco and I wished to nip that in the bud at the outset.
Also, because of my ongoing laptop issues I've had to post this using a different methodology. Please let me know if the format is wonky.