Professor McGonagall stood alone in the late Professor Dumbledore's office, her hands flat on the desk. She looked around the empty room. She sat down in the desk and put her head in her hands. "It didn't work," She muttered into the air. She shook her head, lifting it from her hands.

"Did you hear me, Albus. It didn't work!"

She was frustrated. The scene that had just occurred in the Great Hall was absurd, in the highest form. It was an outrage. To be honest, the Headmistress didn't know where to go from here. She saw the bonding happening on the lower levels, but this.

They were the role-models for the school, and they just ruined the entire experiment.

"I don't know what you were thinking, Albus. But it didn't work. It didn't do what you thought it would."

"Albus isn't a fool," Professor Snape stepped out of the shadows. "This isn't the end of it."

"You saw what happened down there," Minerva replied. "You heard her. She called herself a-"

"You don't have to repeat it." Professor Snape walked up to the desk and rested his fingers on the dark wood. "This isn't the end of it."

Minerva stood up, glaring at him. "It certainly looked like it. I don't even know what to do with her. She isn't anywhere to be found."

"She'll show up tomorrow; we'll deal with it then."

"Drinking in front of the students, degrading herself like that..." Her voice trailed off.

"We'll deal with it tomorrow," he said, voice tired. But each word was perfectly enunciated anyway.

"That we will," Minerva replied.

He returned her curt nod as she walked by him. "Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight, Severus."

The door closed behind her.

Severus looked up at the frozen portrait of the headmaster. His lip quirked up, but just a touch. "What were you thinking."

There was no answer.

With a shake of his head, he leaned off of the desk, and swept out of the room, cloak billowing behind him.

~*~*~

Earlier

~*~*~

It was a spectacle. No one was more surprised than, well, everyone.

The shock written on the Headmistress's face was one of the highlights of the whole scandal. "Miss Granger, I-"

Hermione's drunken laugh cut Professor McGonagall off. "It's just a drop of liquor, Headmistress, nothing to worry about."

"Miss Grang-"

Hermione simply plowed through Professor McGonagall's interjection. "Now, if you'll all listen up, I have a couple things to say, then you can go about'ch your business."

The hall simmered down, although the whispers didn't stop. Hermione waltzed up to the nearest table, and with a loud thud, she slammed the bottle down, then hopped up onto the bench. She plopped her behind down onto the table, and crossed her legs. With a lazy grin, she surveyed the crowed, and muttered under her breath, "Where is he, where is he, where is he..."

Her eyes flit around, not catching anyone's gaze, until she saw the familiar blonde, the speculative, the ice cold grey. "And there's our winner."

"Miss Granger, I really do insist-"

But Hermione wasn't listening.

She held her hand up. "I only have one thing to say," she said with a silly grin on her face. "I just wanted to congratulate Mister Malfoy on his win."

The mummers in the crowd grew. Confusion. Skepticism.

"After all," Hermione continued, looking him right in the eye, "Everyone knows that I'm just a filthy little Mudblood," the word rolled off of her tongue- she didn't even wince, "and I'm not as good as he is. I just wanted everyone to know," She broke the stare, not caring about the small amount of shock and anger that flitted through his expression and opened her arms to everyone in the room, "That that is reason why I failed to win."

Silence.

It was so loud. Everyone's ears were pounded with it. Deafening silence.

Hermione looked at the stunned student body, the agog Headmistress, the perplexed Professor Snape, who noticed that after her confession, she didn't look at Malfoy, Harry, or any of her friends. Interesting.

After a few heartbeats, Hermione grabbed her bottle, and with a grin, she said "Goodnight folks, enjoy your feast!"

And she waltzed drunkenly out the door, whistling, leaving nothing but open mouthed students and wide stares.

The life of the party, she was.

Once her whistle faded, the words that filled the Great Hall were infinite. Even Professor McGonagall didn't try to bring everyone under control.

It was a disaster.

Draco watched as Harry and Ron immediately got up out of their seats and bolted out of the room.

Pansy grinned over at Draco, putting her hand on arm, smoothing out the already smoothed sleeve. "Well, that was certainly entertaining."

But Draco wasn't smiling. Pansy's brow raised. "Isn't this what you wanted, Draco? You're the winner!Granger conceded, it's a win-win situation."

Draco looked at the closed doors, then back at Pansy. Something wasn't right. His eyes bored into hers. "Did you orchestrate this?"

Green eyes clashed with grey, neither giving anything away.

After a moment of silence, Draco pushed past Pansy towards the doors of the Great Hall. Pansy grabbed his shoulder. "Where are you going, Draco?"

Draco turned his head slowly to face her. "I don't explain myself to anyone, that includes you." He stared at her for a moment, until she let her hand fall.

Food started popping up on the tables in a desperate attempt to distract the students from the insanity that just occurred, but Draco didn't care. He turned away from Pansy and walked straight the doors, ignoring all the people congratulating him or staring at him in confusion.

He slipped through the doors and into the dark, torchlit hallways of the castle. He looked left, then right, but there was no sign of Hermione.

Where could she be. He thought to himself. But then he realized, that while he may have known where a sober Hermione Granger would hide, he had no idea where a drunk one would go.

Absolutely no earthly idea.

Damn, Damn, Damn.

He would have to start from scratch.

And what better way to get someone's attention than to yell at them.

"GRANGER" he bellowed into the empty halls. He listened for a moment as his voice echoed off the stone walls. He gave her a second to respond, but just as he expected, there was not a sound.

He would have thought that maybe he would have heard her stumbling around, cackling, but then Draco realized that he had no idea what a drunk Hermione Granger would be like, period.

It was a mess, he was sure.

He looked at the ground for maybe a drop of liquor or two, but there was nothing, nothing at all.

His brow furrowed. Where would a drunk Granger even go? He thought.

No idea.

His fists clenched. Well, he would just have to search, he supposed. Searched until he found her and could shake the truth out of her. It was an unnecessary display, one that he should have relished but didn't. It was disgusting.

But wait. He would never search for her. That wasn't him. It didn't matter. She didn't matter.

So he turned around.

He would let Potter and the Weasel find her. Then, he would shake it out of her.

He would get his explanation, Granger willing or not.

- - - - - -

Hermione knew they would come looking for her. She just knew they would.

So she did what she did best- be unpredictable. She walked to the Quidditch field. Maybe she would even grab a broom and fly around on it, be daring.

Well, maybe not. She wasn't drunk, after all.

The grass crunched under her feet until she came to a stop smack dab in the middle of the unsanded Quidditch field.

She lay back on the grass, and closed her eyes, only to then open them to look at the countless stars above her.

She loved stars. They were real both in the muggle and in the wizarding world, and they were beautiful.

She fell asleep staring at the stars.

And then woke up to the ceiling of the Hospital Wing.

Life was a real bitch sometimes.

~*~*~*

"She's not crazy," the nurse told Professor McGonagall, "But she is extremely exhausted. Her friends can come see her, but for now, I think it would be OK to just say she's had a breakdown."

Professor McGonagall took the nurses's hand into her own, "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," she said, as she looked at the bed that Hermione was propped up in, lost in her own dream world, reading a book.

She turned and walked quietly out of the Wing. Now was not the time to chastise her, although there was no doubt that there was a chastisement coming! More was expected from the smart lady, and the Professor would make sure to that.

But for now, the girl needed rest.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasely," she said, as she passed the dynamic duo in the hall.

"Professor," the both replied in unison as they hurried down the hall.

A small knowing smile crossed her lips.

Friendship was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Chaos, however, was not.

But for now...

She would tolerate it, for now.

~*~*~*

Draco tapped his long fingers in succession on the wooden table in the library, tap, tap, tap, one after the other, brow furrowed in concentration. Classes hadn't resumed yet, but he wanted to brush up on some research and spells.

At least, that's the excuse he was prepared to give anyone who asked him what he was doing in the restricted section. Really, he was just doing his damnedest not to die from boredom. He had heard nothing about his muggle witch yet, and frankly, life after the game was about as mundane as rain on a rainy day.

It couldn't get much worse.

He had his eyes and ears about the school, someone would report to him eventually.

"I heard you were in here."

The over-produced sultry voice was not anything close to what his ears wanted to hear at that second. He didn't move a muscle, didn't even flinch. "What is it, Pansy." He didn't even bother to add any sort of inflection to the words.

"I just thought you might be interested in some information."

Draco didn't respond.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the blonde, surveying his perfectly lithe form. She would be lying if she said that she still wasn't attracted to him. Looking at him sent a jolt of heat right through her bones. But she knew him too well. "Potter and the Weasel were just seen hurrying to the hospital wing. Rumour has it the Mudblood-"

Draco's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"- has gone loonier than Loony Lovegood." She sat next to him, walking her fingers up his arm. "No one knows for sure, but that's the rumor."

"Is that it?" Draco asked, turning to her. "That's all?"

"Isn't that what you wanted to know?" her eyes pierced right into his. "Isn't she all that you're thinking about?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "I thought I made myself understood before," he cocked his head. "I don't have to explain myself."

He twisted his body out of the bench and strode out of the door.

Pansy didn't want to believe it. She couldn't.

Draco had the hots the muggle. She was stunned. Floored.

And yet...she had the hots for Ronald Weasley.

So maybe Draco having the hots for the Mudblood wasn't so bad.

Who was she kidding, that was tragic. But she wasn't going to fight him about it. They would never work out, anyway.

The Other Side was only good for sexual favors, and that's how she planned to keep it.

Poor Ronald didn't get that yet, but it didn't matter.

He liked it. She had him, hook line and sinker.

And that was the way she liked it.

~*~*~*

Lying was easy, Hermione found. She couldn't tell anyone about the Pansy bet, anyway, so why not let the world think she just had a mental break down, couldn't take losing, coming in second, etc, etc, and so forth. Something more interesting would happen in a week or two and it would all blow over.

So saying "I'm not really sure what happened to me" to her closest friends didn't hurt so bad. In fact, it was relief, hiding behind the lie. She wouldn't have to own up to any of it. She would have to own up to the fact that she couldn't stand that she lost, that she had gotten a little game crazy, that she had changed and she wasn't sure why, and on top of that Dr-

Nope. She wasn't even going there. "I'll be fine, really," Hermione assured Harry and Ron, smiling lightly at them. "It's not a big deal. I probably just caught too much sun."

And the excuse placated them. They would never guess. For the next half hour or so, they swapped stories about their adventures, and yet, they all kept their secrets. Minus Harry, of course, he had none.

Ron didn't say anything about Pansy, and Hermione said nothing about... Anyway.

In fact, they didn't bring him up the whole conversation, which Hermione was grateful for. She was sure they did it on purpose, but at least they didn't treat her like a crazy who would crack at the sound of his very name.

"Alright, boys, visiting is over," Madame Pomfrey said, "Hermione needs her rest."

Hermione refused the strong urge to roll her eyes. As her best friends reluctantly got up to go, she smiled up at them, "Don't worry, you'll probably see me at dinner."

Ronald kissed her on the forehead and Harry squeezed her hand in return. They walked out of the wing, and she was left alone again, with a book she had already read three times. Madame Finch asked her if she wanted anything else, but Hermione kindly declined. With a nod, Madame left her in the room on her own.

She got up out of the bed and pulled the separating covers around her bed. If she was going to be alone, she was going to do it right. She picked up her wand from the table side next to the bed, and put a silencing spell around it. They didn't think she was crazy enough to confiscate her wand. They just needed to isolate her. And to be honest, she didn't mind.

She climbed back into the bed. A little TLC, is all she needed. That, and some Back Street Boys, but this would have to do. This silence and the ruddy book that she had already basically memorized.

She closed her eyes, Ah. Rest.

A thud on her nightstand made her eyes pop back open. She scrambled into a sitting position. "Thought I'd bring you a new one. You've probably read that twice by now," Draco said, eyes flitting over the book at the edge of her bed, and then, up to her face.

Inscrutable. That's how she would always interpret his gaze. Sometimes it was hot, sometimes it was cold, but she could never really see through that impassable grey.

"Three times, actually."

Draco sat down in the wooden chair in the corner of Hermione's quarantine.

She looked better, he noted. She didn't look as crazy. A pity. Crazy, he could deal with. He wasn't quite sure to proceed with the situation, to be honest. She was looking at him warily, he could read her eyes like an open book. He knew what she looked like when she was happy, sad, relieved, angry, lusting, it was all there, in the golden flecks of her eyes.

"Even worse."

He didn't offer anything else. He had broken the ice, now it was her turn to fess up. Or question. Or explain, actually. Explain would be great.

"What are you doing here."

"You tell me."

"I didn't ask you to be here."

"Didn't you?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you want, Malfoy." It rolled off of her lips like morning dew. It felt so good to say it. To hear it. Everyone was avoiding it like the plague. But there it was. She hated that she loved the way it felt.

It was time to come to terms with that. She would get over it, eventually. So she was a little crazy, wasn't everyone?

"Tell me."

She knew what he wanted. Hermione sighed. "Why do you need to know."

It wasn't a question. He knew that. Draco sat there silently for a second, steepling his fingers. He leaned forward. "Amuse me."

And she snapped. Her eyes instantly sparked into caramel fire. Amuse him, eh? That wasn't her job, and yet she was his jester and butler at the same time. Being a fool and doing his work for him. She wont the game for him, the ass. And now, now he asked her to amuse him?! He couldn't have insulted her anymore that he already had. "Get out, Malfoy."

"Grang-"

"Get. Out." Hermione hissed, pointing to the slit in the curtain. "Don't make me say it again." Her eyes drove straight into his grey ones, showing absolutely no mercy.

Draco's face showed no emotion except for a strange kind of intenseness. He leaned forward just a bit more, elbows on his knees. Thirty seconds passed by, their eyes not wavering from each other. Just as she was working up the nerve to get up and shove him out, his lips moved, ever so slightly.

"No."

Neither of them moved. The air was charged with static electricity. She could feel the hairs on her arms raise. His hot blue eyes were staring into hers, and suddenly, with a fast motion he stood out of the chair, and stepped over her, putting his hands on either side of the grates of headboard. His nose was just a second from hers. She leaned back into the cold metal, but it made no difference. He only leaned in closer, faces so close. Hermione could smell his cologne. It was sharp, invading her senses. "Get away from me!" The words flew out of her lips unbidden.

Her blood was screaming come closer.

Her back pressed harder into the metal. She was surrounded by him, she couldn't get out. Her body was getting warm. "Malfoy, I'm warning you." She said, her eyes skitting from one of his eyes to the other.

"Granger," He retorted, lips moving the air in the very scant space that between their faces, "I'm warning you. You're going to tell me what I want to know, Granger," his nose touched hers, "and you're going to tell me -"

But he didn't get to finish, because Hermione just couldn't stand it anymore. The fire coarsening through her veins. She slapped him. Slapped him hard. His face instantly snapped to the side, a red handprint coloring his skin.

After a couple seconds, he slowly turned his face back to hers, and when his eyes met hers that time, they were all fire.

And that was when he snapped. That fire consumed him. The anger, the confusion, the lust, all of it, focused right on the woman in front of him, staring back at him with the same anger.

And in that moment, nothing could be explained, nothing needed to be explained. It just was.

And with that realization, his hand shot out instinctively around the back of her neck, and he pulled her roughly towards him, and then, then, the he let the fire consuming him consume her, too. His perfectly white teeth bit harshly into her soft bottom lip, causing her to gasp, and she, too, was lost.

He pulled her up out of the bed and slammed her into the wall. Her hands went up around his neck and into his perfectly sleeked blond hair, curling into the strands as his hands kneaded her lips, fingertips biting into her hospital gown.

And it felt great. He pushed her further into the cold stone blocks, and she pushed her body back up into his. He wasn't letting her breath, ever kiss was ferocious, and invasion of all of her senses, Just when her knees were going weak and she thought that she was going to pass out from being so overwhelmed by him, he moved down into the soft column of her neck.

For a second, he paused, lips hovering right over her pulse, listening to her pant for breath. Goosebumps covered her entire body for that second. Just as she almost regained her senses, He squeezed one hip tight, the other running up the side of her body to the space right underneath her breast, causing a breath to escape her mouth again, and he started necking her as if she was the only thing he wanted right at that moment.

Their bodies pushed even tighter, he could feel her going weaker from the pleasure, and for that moment, he didn't care about anything except the heady, hot feeling coursing through his veins and making sure that she damn well felt it, too.

Hermione was lost in the sensation of Draco Malfoy's lips on her neck. Her neck. He was going to leave her a hickey, but she didn't care. She leaned her head to the opposite direction to give him an easier access. She wanted more, but wasn't sure she could take it. And that's when she felt his bare fingers on her naked lower thigh, right underneath the hem of her dress.

They both froze, as if they had come to some line. He came up from her neck and looked at her, eyes searching hers, panting just as much as her. His hand gripped her thigh, fingers pressing into the skin, and then he let go. He fixed the hem of her dress and stepped away from her, looking just as much of a mess as she did.

His expression was inscrutable. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Draco put a finger to it, to silence her. That's when she heard the footsteps coming up to the door of the wing.

Before pulling completely away from her to sneak out a side door, he leaned in and bit her earlobe. What he said sent a rush of heat all the way down to her toes.

"I'm not done with you, Granger. I haven't even started."