HELLO MY LOVES. Way back when I first started writing, I was a huge fan of Harry Potter and Draco/Hermione were my OTP. This fic is inspired by something I read from that universe: Nicest Thing by ricerabbit. It's a wonderful story and if you love Dramione, would highly recommend!

This is meant to be a one-shot but likely, the start of a series of one-shots. We'll see where it leads - let me know your thoughts! :)

I haven't forgotten about Best of Me - I promise! Just needed to get this one out.

Also, AU AU AU AU. Really just me playing with my favorite characters.

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Don't be scared if we're falling

All we need is a little time

To keep me yours and keep you mine

"Keep You Mine" by NOTD

The wedding was just the right amount of luxurious, class, and wild. Lara Jean stood up with the rest of the crowd when the priest announced the newly married Trevor Pike and Sabrina Fox. She could feel the tears spring into her eyes as she clapped. She really shouldn't have been crying at all but she couldn't help herself. She always cried at weddings. It was a celebration of love and she loved love. She always had.

After the ceremony, she followed the crowd into the main banquet room, wiping the remnants of the tears away. She was standing at a table, sipping a fruity cocktail that definitely masked the alcohol a bit too well, happily talking to Lucas. She and Lucas had strategically placed themselves at a table that was in the line of sight of the caterers and in a prime location to get the pick of the hor d'oeurves. She was swallowing the last bit of the salmon mousse crostini when he walked right up to her, smiling and tipping his glass towards hers.

Peter Kavinsky was standing in front of her, in a well-tailored suit that molded against his muscles, sipping what was likely some sort of whiskey cocktail, smiling brightly. He was still as tall as ever though his hair was a bit more trimmed and styled. The boyish good looks that he had all those years ago had melted away into a chiseled jaw and piercing eyes. He was certainly boyish no more.

"Covey. Lucas." He nodded towards both of them.

Lara Jean knew she was staring and her left eye was probably twitching. Why was Peter Kavinsky talking to them? This was so bizarre. She felt Lucas nudge her a little too hard and she recovered, taking a big gulp of her cocktail.

Lucas looked at the both of them and the space in between and smirked. "I'm going to go get another round of drinks, Lara Jean."

And, before she could protest, Lucas had shimmied his way to the nearest bar, probably already flirting with the bartender.

She turned back to Peter and smiled politely, saying hello. It was a little weird and surreal - talking to Peter Kavinsky after not seeing him for nearly 10 years. The last time she saw him was at high school graduation. He had been selected as the student body speaker, the person who could best represent their class. His speech was actually really good – the perfect amount of nostalgia and hopefulness for what the future would bring. She had heard that he went onto UVA with a lacrosse scholarship and that was pretty much it. She had lost touch after that.

Not that they were really ever close. They hadn't been close since middle school. But, here they were, chatting about their lives and interests as if no time had passed at all. Lucas was certainly taking his time with getting the drinks. The topic of conversation jumped around a bit and they found themselves talking about their favorite TV shows.

"So, did you watch that new Jason Bateman show on HBO? The Outsider?"

She frowned at him. "Isn't that supposed to be gory and scary? What makes you think I would have any interest in that?"

"It's really more of a murder mystery," Peter explained, playing with his glass. "Plus, it's Stephen King! You love books."

Lara Jean snorted lightly, "Just because I like books doesn't mean I like Stephen King." She crossed her arms in front of herself, "I made the mistake of watching the new It with Kitty because she insisted that we needed to watch it because Bill Hader was quote unquote a revelation in it." She used air quotes when describing it.

"I'm guessing you didn't enjoy it?"

She narrowed her eyes, "I had nightmares for three days straight!" She was pouting now. "I literally had to sleep with the lights on."

She looked up at him and realized he was staring at her, the look in his eyes she couldn't quite place. He recovered quickly and smiled again, quickly diverting the topic. They were discussing the benefits and downsides of Marie Kondo's 'spark joy' method when Lucas and Chris interrupted them.

"I'm just saying that most things in my apartment spark joy so it really wouldn't work for me."

"So you're admitting you're a hoarder, Covey?"

"I am not! I'm just saying that I find a lot of value in material objects."

Lucas waggled his eyebrows at Lara Jean as they approached, handing her a cocktail. Chris politely waved at Peter before pulling Lara Jean to the side, insisting that they powder their noses. She was practically dragging her across the room when Lara Jean finally wrestled her arm out of Chris's grasp. They were in a quiet alcove.

"What is happening here? Since when are you and PK friends?"

Lara Jean rolled her eyes. "We're making conversation. He's just being friendly and nice."

Chris was unconvinced, plucking a skewer off a passing waiter's plate. She pointed the skewer at Lara Jean. "He's here sans date and the first person he approaches to chat is you? Hmm. He wants to get into your pants."

"I'm not wearing pants, am I?" she retorted and smoothed down the silky pink dress that she was wearing. She paused when she saw the way that Chris was laughing at her and she smacked her gently on the wrist. "I didn't mean it like that!"

Chris chortled. "Just don't forget to share every juicy little detail. You deserve a good-"

Lara Jean shoved her hands away before Chris could make a lewd gesture but couldn't help the laugh that escaped from her lips.

"You're impossible. Why do I keep you around?"

Chris blew her a kiss before pulling her back towards the main room.

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The music was pounding. It was no surprise that Trevor Pike's wedding would be a big party and overall extravaganza. He didn't know how to do it any other way. Lara Jean watched Chris and Lucas on the dance floor. Chris was twirling around, not really following the beat. Lucas, on the other hand, was right on the beat and she was reminded of pretty much every high school dance. The three of them would always go together and be each other's dates. For senior prom, she had bought Lucas a corsage. She remembered how he looked at it that night – like it was something he would cherish for the rest of his life.

She was lost in her thoughts when Peter approached her again.

"Not dancing, Covey?"

She looked up at him. He had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie. Her eyes went to his broad chest – the dark navy shirt he had on accentuated his muscles and she knew she was staring at this point. She cleared her throat and shook her head.

"Not really my thing."

He pouted at her and she had the sudden urge to wrap her arms around him and bite that lip.

"Come on, Covey. It's a celebration. You should be celebrating." He grabbed her hand and was tugging her towards the dance floor.

She felt the jolt of electricity go through her, her fingertips tingling. And, suddenly, somehow, she was on the dance floor with Peter Kavinsky wrapped around her.

He was much too smooth for her, she decided. She really didn't know how he could look so good on the dance floor. He smiled at her and she couldn't help herself – she smiled back and was pulled into him. He was just so charming and good-looking that it was hard to say no.

So, she didn't.

Lara Jean had lost track of how many songs they had danced for. They were both out of breath and laughing when the DJ switched the mood, playing a soft and slow melody.

Peter pulled her into his chest and his arm went around her waist as they swayed to the beat, their bodies touching. She let her head rest against his shirt as she let her breathing settle. She hummed along to the music – this was one of her favorite songs.

"You know, you're quite the charmer, Peter Kavinsky," she kept her head against his chest, not looking at him.

"You falling for me, Lara Jean Covey?"

She could feel him murmuring against her hair. She pulled back and shook her head lightly, her eyes teasing.

"Not a chance. I'm not going to be one of those girls in your fan club."

He looked down at her and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. He was staring so intently at her, his eyes piercing.

"No, Lara Jean, you're not anything like them."

She didn't read any more into his words. She let her head fall back down onto his chest and closed her eyes, enjoying the music around them and the comfort of his arms.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She wasn't quite sure how they ended up here.

Peter was kissing her, pushing her up against the wall outside her hotel room as she fumbled for the key in her purse. One minute, they were eating cake, he had a bit of frosting on the corner of his lips and before she knew it, she had leaned forward, swiped the side of his mouth with her finger and sucked the frosting off.

His eyes had darkened and he leaned in, the air seeming to have evaporated from the room.

"Covey."

It was a warning or a prayer or both? She wasn't sure. She just remembered closing the space in between them and then they were kissing and god, she hadn't been kissed like this in a while, maybe ever.

His lips were all over hers and she vaguely thought she heard someone whooping behind her. In between kisses, Lara Jean mentioned that she had a room in the hotel and she guessed that's how they ended up here. Kissing, tumbling into her room as she finally fished out the key, tapping it lightly against the electronic keypad, with Peter sucking on her throat, desperate for more.

Did she really invite Peter Kavinsky to her room?

The thought flitted in and out of her mind as she opened the door, pulling him in. She apparently did and she couldn't let her thoughts and nerves get in the way now. The alcohol had numbed her inhibitions and all she could focus on was the feel of his lips against hers. He had such soft lips.

She never would've really thought they would be soft. He had always seemed like he had hard lines and edges. But, as his lips pressed firmly against hers, his hands running up and down her back as he edged them closer and closer to the bed, she could only think of what a surprise he was.

Out of all the people she could've expected to spend most of the night with at Trevor Pike's wedding, she would never have thought Peter Kavinsky would be at the top of that list.

Yet, here they were. She felt the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. She pushed his suit jacket off his arms while he undid his tie, throwing it behind him. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his exposed chest as she went. She slid his shirt off him and then he was half naked, in her hotel room, looking at her as if he craved her.

It was filling her with heady desire knowing she had this hold over him. She trailed her fingertips across his muscled chest, enjoying the way that he reacted to her touch. He cradled the side of her face gently and placed the sweetest kiss against her lips. She opened her mouth, inviting him in.

Slowly and torturously, he slipped the straps of her dress down her shoulders, past her arms.

"I've been wanting to do this all night," he whispered against her skin.

The dress hung on her hips and he knelt down, pushing the dress all the way down until it pooled at her feet.

Lara Jean knew she should've felt exposed, being so naked and open in front of him but she didn't. He looked at her with such tenderness and desire that any doubt or fear that was in her mind previously melted away.

She led him to the bed and he pushed her down slowly. She unhooked her bra and he took it off of her, throwing it behind them. He leaned forward, sucking on her breast, drawing circles with his tongue around her nipple. She moaned and pressed her body into him further. She ran her hands through his hair, holding him closer. His hand went between her legs and suddenly, he was touching her so intimately. He moved her panties to the side, his finger finding her clit. He massaged her gently and she moaned louder into him. He thrust two fingers into her, finding a steady rhythm. She bucked against him, her breath heavy against his chest. His whole body was over hers and he leaned down, kissing her passionately. His skin was rough against hers, grazing, touching, consuming.

She felt herself on the edge, her vision a blur. He was kissing the side of her face, her lips, her neck, her collarbone, her chest. She felt like his lips were all over her. She wrapped her fingers around his cock which was long and hard against her thigh. He hissed out a sigh of pleasure and pressed his forehead to hers. She continued a steady motion until he suddenly moved off the bed, grabbing something from his wallet.

She watched him as he slipped the condom on, his body over hers.

"I've wanted you for so long." He whispered quietly.

She looked at him hazily, not knowing how to respond. And, before she could think any further, he slipped himself inside her and she moaned out loud, loving the feel of his hardness in her slippery wet heat. He moved intentionally, thrusting his hips deep into her, savoring every single touch and moan that she would give him. His thrusts became more erratic and forceful, his fingers gripping her waist as he kissed her neck, nipping lightly at her skin. She could feel the tightness in her building up further and then, in a perfect moment, she felt it release and explode into a thousand stars. She felt him thrust a few final times into her, whispering her name.

He rolled to the side and caressed her face. He was so gentle with her, almost reverent. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hair. She smiled at him sleepily, gradually letting sleep overtake her.

The light filtered through the sheer hotel curtains, hitting her face, waking her up from her sleep. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, looking around the empty room.

He had left.

She put her hand up against her face, her head pounding slightly.

They had sex two more times last night. She could feel the satisfying soreness between her thighs as she stretched. He had made her body come alive with every touch. She couldn't stop smiling. She got up to get more water, her feet padding against the carpet. She saw the messy script from the corner of her eye and she paused. She picked up the hotel notepad. He had scribbled a note on it.

Last night was amazing, Covey. I'll see you soon.