-1Thank you to everyone for the lovely reviews. I can officially uncross my fingers. I believe they are now bent in a permanent crossed-fingers position.

I mostly write this story in my pajamas, in case anyone was wondering.

DISCLAIMER: I OWN HARRY POTTER. WHAT NOW, J.K. ROWLING? WHAT NOW, HUH? Oh, shit. No-put the gun down. I was kidding. I-what? OKAY! OKAY! I'LL SAY IT! I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER! NOW WILL YOU PUT THE GUN DOWN?!

Ahem. Excuse me.

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I wake up feeling like I've been hit by a tractor trailer.

The sunlight streaming through the windows is killing my eyes, so I turn over and push my face further into the couch.

Wait. The couch? What exactly happened last night?

I move to sit up, but the motion makes my head spin. I lay back down before I throw up everywhere.

I am never drinking again. Ever.

I finally manage to open my eyes a crack and see that someone has placed a glass of water on the table in front of me. I suddenly realize how thirsty I am and reach for it, making a mental note to find out who did it and to thank them later.

The water settles my stomach a bit, and after a few minutes, I feel steady enough to sit up and try to sort through some things.

Well, I'm in the Heads' common room. At least I made it back and didn't end up in some creep's slaughterhouse. That answers my first question. Now if only I had answers to the millions of other questions that are hurting my brain.

I look down and see with relief that I have all of my clothes on. Nothing hurts, so I clearly did not have sex with anyone last night. Good. Check second question off list.

I get up slowly and walk towards the kitchen to see what time it is. The clock on the microwave tells me it's 11:30am. Third question answered.

I hear footsteps and turn around. Look who's coming down the stairs dressed in pajama pants and a well-worn t-shirt.

I'll give you three guesses.

The Sex God stretches and yawns. He obviously hasn't noticed me standing here in the kitchen doorway like a deer in headlights.

"Um, Malfoy?" I begin, but it comes out more as a cracked whisper. I quickly gulp more water and try again. "Malfoy?"

"Wha-oh, hey Granger. You survived." He pads towards me and the kitchen, turning sideways slightly as he moves towards the fridge so as not to bump into me.

"That's debatable," I inform him dryly. "I feel as though someone spent all night jack hammering my skull."

"Drink water and go down to Madam Pomfrey later," he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "She'll have something to make the hangover symptoms go away. It works pretty well-I've taken it a few times and it's worth it if you're willing to brave her clucks of disapproval and the look that says she wants to tell the Headmaster what you've been up to."

"Um, thanks." I lean against the doorway. I'm going to need its support for my next question. "So…what exactly happened last night? I think I kind of blacked out. Did I throw up at all?"

He chuckles a little and leans against the counter to face me. "You puked a bit after the Portkey. Wasn't much, though. You kind of just threw yourself onto the ground and did your business there. Blaise and Weasley were really far ahead of us, and I made you get up and walk on your own legs back to the castle. You fell down a few times on the stairs once we were inside, and you got stuck in one of the steps. You were really confused and couldn't figure out why your leg wouldn't move. I had to pull you out but after that you were alright. I got you back here and you tripped over the doorway and fell on the floor. You then proceeded to refuse to stand up and crawled all the way to the couch, where you fell asleep immediately. I put a glass of water beside you and then I went to bed. And that's about it."

Oh.

Holy.

Jesus.

I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

I am never leaving my room again.

I am definitely never drinking again.

I can't fucking believe he saw me do all of that.

But instead of screaming in humiliation and running out of the room at full speed like I want to, I say, " 'That's about it?' Is there more?"

"Um, well, yeah, but you were really drunk, so I won't hold it against you."

The butterflies in my stomach threaten to burst it open. I am getting more and more nervous. Come on, McSexy, spit it out. Don't leave me in suspense. Just hit me with whatever brick of information you have and get it over with so I can get on with my life in 2 or 3 years.

"You told me you think I'm really cute," he says, and quickly sticks his face in the orange juice glass.

I am officially going to have to move to another city so the shame of this does not follow me around for the rest of my life.

"I said that?" I ask incredulously, and he nods.

I realize that this is my moment to quickly backtrack and pass off what I said as a drunken flight of fancy.

But I'm not sure I want to. I mean, if I take it back now, I may never have the opportunity to say it again, and Draco Malfoy will, once and for all, write me off as a bushy-haired, homework-obsessed lying drunk. If I don't take it back, it may give him something to think about and (with a little luck) could play a part in what happens next. On the other hand, if I don't take it back, I might just look like a crushing little schoolgirl, and Draco Malfoy will, once and for all, write me off as a bushy-haired, homework-obsessed stalker.

Maybe there's some way I can find middle ground and go both ways.

"Well, I mostly just said it because…you know…well, I dunno why I said it."

Wow, Hermione. Way to start strong and finish lame.

"Granger," He-Who-Looks-Hot-In-Pajamas (well he would look hot in anything, even a paper bag, really) starts, setting down his glass. "I just broke up with someone I've been dating for a long time. Not only do the two of us have a long history of rivalry and insults, but I also don't pin you as the type to be satisfied with a rebound. Besides, what about older Weasel? Didn't you two have something going at one point?"

Oh lord. Even Draco Malfoy knows about that? Well I guess it's pretty obvious-Ron's not known for his subtlety. And Parvati and Lavender aren't known for their let's-not-shit-talk-other-people morals.

I wonder how he found out?

"We don't have anything going on," I say quickly before this gets even more out of hand. "Ron liked me for a while but it's all platonic on my end."

Platonic that will soon turn into Ronald Weasley splattered all over the Gryffindor common room for not being able to keep his mouth shut.

"Well, I think us getting along and having fun together is a start," Draco says, and I can practically hear the sound of my heart being crushed. "But we have very different things going on. You're looking for someone to be in a relationship with-I have no idea why you would pick me above all people-and I've just gotten out of a long-term relationship and I'm not really sure what my direction is. I don't have a problem with the two of us hanging out on occasion-although next time, keep your drinking to a minimum so I don't have to babysit you, please. And I don't have a problem with the two of us being civil to each other."

I am being rejected by logic. Everything he just said is so logical that it's infuriating. He has excellent reasons for not liking me and not being with me.

I look up at him, and smile a bit, forcing back the tears threatening to rain down my face. "So-Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy being civil to each other? We're going to have to ice skate home. Hell just froze over."

He laughs a bit and says, "And on that note, I would advise you to get out of here. Pansy's coming over soon and the amount of screaming and fighting that will ensue will make you wish you were in hell."

His advice could not be more welcome. I look down, ignoring the snot that's beginning to trickle down from my nose in order to avoid sniffling and giving away just how upset I am.

I walk as quickly as I can towards my bedroom. The moment the door closes, the tears come running down my face. I don't think I've cried this hard in a very long time. I reach for my wand to put a silencing charm on the door and to hide the (loud) evidence of my broken heart from McHottie, but my wand isn't there.

Shit. Luna has my wand. Damn it. Of all the times to not have your wand, this is not an ideal one.

I settle for the second-best option: locking the door, putting a towel by the bottom, and burying my face in a pillow.

About an hour later, face still wet from tears, I am jolted from my pity party by the sounds of yelling coming from the common room.

I guess Bitchy-McBitch is here.

I get up and remove the towel from the bottom of my door in an effort to hear what they're saying.

"-can't believe you, Draco! First, you break up with me because I told a few of my friends what was going on and then they went and couldn't keep their fat mouths shut, and then you go out to Club Azkaban and spend the entire night with Hermione Granger, of all people! Where is she? Is she here? I'm gonna shove my boot so far up her ass she'll taste leather!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Pansy!" Draco shouts back. "No, she's not here! And she has absolutely nothing to do with this! Just because we share living quarters and have decided to be a bit more civil to each other in order to avoid making each others' lives miserable for a year doesn't mean we're fucking!"

Does he really think I'm not here? He can't think that-he saw me go up to my room and as far as I know he's been down in the common room for the past hour, waiting for Pansy. Why did he say I wasn't there?

I'll have to ask Ginny about this later.

This would probably be an inopportune moment to go downstairs and try to get out the door so I can retrieve my wand and find Ginny the Guru.

"-know I like to keep things private! I never tell anyone private details about our relationship because it's just that-OUR relationship! And I really don't think that one little spat makes it okay for you to go and tell everyone you know that we're having a big fight! You completely jumped the broom on that one, and you went and made everything into a huge mess!"

Man, Draco Malfoy is killing everyone with logic today.

"You really don't get it, do you Draco?" Pansy asks scathingly, and I can almost see her shaking her perfectly-styled head.

"No Pansy, I think YOU'RE the one who doesn't get it," Draco shoots back. "And you know what? There is no way in hell I'm going to reconcile with someone who can't be mature enough to see my point and to talk about the issue at hand without bringing in other issues just to make it so she's winning. I can see now that I was very right to make the decision to break up with you. You're obviously too immature to handle any kind of relationship with anyone. I'm surprised your friends put up with you for so long. You can just go back to them and tell them that."

Pansy proves she's mature by shouting, "I HATE YOU!," before stomping across the room (yes, I can hear her stomping like a 2 year old whose ice cream just got taken away) and slamming the door with such force I'm surprised it doesn't give out and collapse.

I hear the Sex God throw himself down on the couch with a sigh, and I quickly change my clothes into a comfortable pair of worn straightlegs and fitted red t-shirt before jamming my Converse back on my feet and opening the door.

"Is it safe to come out now?" I call, and the Sexiest Man Alive turns his head and looks up at me.

"Yeah, it's safe to come out now," he says.

There are so many questions I want to ask him. Why did he lie to protect me from Pansy? Why did he say I looked good last night? Why did he turn me down so rationally a mere hour ago?

However, this is probably not the best time to ask him any of those questions. For now, I'll keep them to myself.

For now, I'll ask Ginny.

Ginny's curled up in an armchair by the window, reading, when I first enter the Gryffindor common room. To my relief, there are only a few students scattered about the room, none of whom have the names of Harry Potter or Ronald Weasley. Or Neville Longbottom, or Colin Creevey, for that matter. Or Parvati Patil, or-

Whatever.

Anyway, suffice to say nobody I don't want to see is in the common room.

I walk over to Ginny, who doesn't even notice me until I snatch the book out of her hand and say, "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Merlin, Hermione. You just snatched a book out of someone's hand. You're actually discouraging reading now, you know. Next thing you know Michael Jackson will announce to the world that he really is an alien and he's sorry for taking up so much of everyone's time with his strange antics."

Oh, I get it. Now that I introduced Ginny to the weird world of Muggle celebrities, she's going to use one of them in an analogy or a metaphor or whatever you call it every time she wants to make fun of me.

I give her a look that tells her I mean business and she grumbles, "Alright. My room. There's no one up there."

"Where is everyone today?" I ask as I follow her up the stairs.

"They're outside," she says. "They're all enjoying the last few days of fall before winter sweeps down on us like the apocalyptic hell that it is."

"I talked to the Sex God this morning," I say as soon as the door shuts behind me.

She looks at me excitedly. "And?"

"And he basically said he doesn't think I'm interested in being a rebound and he just wants to be friends," I finish, feeling tears about to overwhelm me once again.

"Oh, rejection by logic," Ginny says, hugging me tightly. "But what about what he said last night? About you looking good and all that? And what brought on this conversation?"

I pull back, wiping the tears off my face. "Apparently when I was drunk last night right before we took the Portkey after you and Blaise I told him I thought he was cute. And I don't know. I guess he was saying that stuff in a non-interested way. Boys are complicated."

"Boys are NOT that complicated," Ginny disagrees, leading me over to sit down on her bed and handing me a tissue. "They're kind of like plants."

I suddenly remember meeting The Plant last night and I have to giggle a bit at this.

"If he told you he thought you looked good, he's obviously attracted to you. People like Draco Malfoy don't just throw around compliments. And he didn't try to get in your pants, so he obviously wasn't saying it to get something from you. You know what I think? I think he thought about what he said later on, when he didn't have a few drinks in him, and he thought about it rationally and decided that he would ignore it and be reasonable about things."

"But I don't want him to be reasonable about things," I sniffle.

I mean, really. I could've handled it a lot better if he just told me he hated my guts or he thought I was ugly or something like that. It's a lot easier to hate a guy who acts like an asshole rather than one who kills your dreams with logic. Telling me I'm gross would've been the nice thing to do.

"No, of course you don't," Ginny says soothingly. "But this could be a good thing. One on hand, you just escaped the Rebound Girl Syndrome, which you were worried about anyway. Secondly, you already got under his skin once. Next time you do it, it'll be a lot easier."

"But I don't know what else to do," I argue. "He already shot me down with reason and he probably thinks that's the end of it. He doesn't want me to get under his skin again."

"Okay, Hermione? I'm going to ask you a question now-how much do you like him? Do you like him only because he's good looking, or are there actual personality traits that you like about him? And I want to hear them. Out loud."

I would imagine that this is the Point Of No Return Question.

I take a few moments before answering slowly.

"Well…you're right, I like him because he's good looking. I like that he was gentleman enough to babysit a drunk girl he's never had a great relationship with. I like that he's smart. I like that he's a rational person with actual reasons for doing things. I like that he can be committed to one person. I guess I'll have to think about this more. I don't really know enough about him. I mean, I have a big crush on him, yeah, but I'm totally getting your point. I should decide how much this is worth to me before I proceed."

Ginny nods. "There you go," she says. "Spend the next week actually trying to get to know him better. Then, next Saturday, if you're still confident that you really like him, we'll decide what to do next."

Ha, Draco Malfoy. I'm going to fight logic with more logic. Take THAT.

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I know this is an incredibly quick update and that this chapter is a little depressing. I really wanted to write that scene where he turns her down with good reasons because it's happened to me before and it was awful. This chapter is a bit of filler but I felt it was necessary to continue on with the story.

Read and review.

-Carrie