A/N: I have no self-control and I cannot lie. This story came to me in a dream a few weeks ago and I have since been refining it into, well this. Do I have a Dramione problem? Yes, yes I do.

As always, no update schedule outside of hopes to update once a week. No updates will ever come on the weekends.

Prologue

Hermione couldn't keep the scowl from her face. Romilda Vane. Romilda Fucking Vane. The Vane of her fucking existence more like it. Hermione scuffed into the champagne glass that she had tipped against her lips.

Once more, Ronald had shown just what an utter arse he really was. Throwing her head back, Hermione drained the remainder of the champagne, giving a slight shiver as the alcohol moved into her belly. The numbing feeling she was hoping for from excessive drinking was well on its way of being achieved.

"A knut for your thoughts?" The silky baritone voice washed over her ears, the sound drawing a breath from her lungs. Rolling her eyes, Hermione turned away from the nauseating public display of action that Ronald and Romilda were still putting on near the stage.

"Beautiful night for a wedding." Hermione answered lifting her new glass of champagne, again downing it in one drink.

"You sure? Because our best friends are over there" gesturing towards the middle of the dance floor, Hermione smiled watching her raven-haired best friend as he slowly danced with his new husband. "And instead, you're watching a weasel attempting to mate with a slag."

Rolling her eyes, Hemione looked up into the steel grey eyes that she'd slowly gotten to know over the past three years. "Yes well, excuse me for being a bit upset. We did only just break off our engagement not even a week ago."

It was the truth, but in all honesty her relationship with Ron had ended a month earlier when she'd taken that international portkey and moved her life to New York City in the States. Hermione had been offered a job within the Magical Congress of the United States of America (also known as MACUSA) as a runes expert. Hermione had jumped at the chance to expand her knowledge and the opportunity that was being extended to her.

MACUSA had ensured her that she would be traveling through all of the Americas studying runes, the only catch was that her contract was for five years. Hermione knew, she just knew that while the wizarding community in Britain was still recovering from the second wizarding war, there wouldn't be a budget within their ministry to allow her to follow her passions of learning and research. So when the opportunity had present itself elsewhere, Hermione was thrilled to leave the country that had taken her youth from her with a war.

When Hermione had first brought this idea to Ron, he had been supportive and told her that he was excited for her and happy. He quickly changed his tune when he realized that Hermione wanted them to move to New York City, together, for the next five years.

Ron couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that she would willingly leave behind their friends and his family. They had fought for a month straight over it. Ron saying that Hermione was selfish and putting her career ahead of his family. Hermione throwing back that he was holding her back from her full potential because he refused to not be a quick floo away from his mummy.

Ultimately, Hermione packed up and moved to NYC securing a small flat (or apartment as they call it there). MACUSA had already thrown her an assignment to explore the Americas, sending her to Bolivia for two weeks to explore temples. She'd spent the next two weeks putting together her findings and before she knew it, she had to grab a port key to make it back in time for Harry's wedding.

When she'd arrived the week before, Hermione had sought out Ron and told him about NYC and the place she'd found. Hermione had hoped that seeing how easy it would be to come back to visit would sway Ron. She begged Ron to come back with her after the wedding, but he refused. Ron had told her that in the month she was gone it felt like he was freed. Hermione might have hexed him and thrown her engagement ring into the pond at The Burrow before storming off the property.

That was five days ago. And now she was forced to stand and watch Ron dry humping Romilda Vane on the dance floor, at their best friend's wedding. With another wince, Hermione grabbed another glass of champagne off the tray floating past her and down it in one go, again. She had lost count at how many drinks she had consumed, not that she was trying to limit herself tonight.

"Cheers, engagements and marriage are overrated anyway." The long pale fingers lifted his own champagne glass and brought it to his puckered pink lips, also draining his own drink.

"Alright Malfoy, you know why I'm getting trashed at our best friends' wedding. So, go on, tell me what fucked up thing has you trying to keep up with me."

Draco Malfoy looked down at her with one perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted at her. "And what, if I may ask, makes you think there is something fucked up happening in my life?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione couldn't help the harsh laugh that burst through her. The man was absolutely ridiculous, completely gorgeous, but still ridiculous.

"Fine, my father is currently in negotiations with the Selwyn, Greengrass, and Avery patriarchs for a betrothal contract. He's essentially selling me off to be married for the best political gain for himself. By this time next week, I'll know if I'm destined to marry Rebecca Selwyn, Astoria Greengrass, or Margaret Avery." He snatched two champagne flutes off the next tray that passed. Hermione went to reach for one, but Malfoy had already drained the first glass and had started sipping on the second.

"That's, well, honestly, horrific." As Hermione turned to give her now stoned faced companion a little privacy, she got an eyeful of Ron's hands wandering up the very short skirt that Romilda was wear.

Taking Malfoy's lead, Hermione grabbed herself two flutes of champagne, and drained them each in quick succession. The last clear thought Hermione had was Pansy Parkinson waltzing up to the pair.

ooo

Eyes slightly crusted and a pounding headache, Hermione let out a groan from the pain radiating her entire body. Opening her eyes, the entire room began to spin causing a wave of nausea to ripple through her body. Throwing an arm over her eyes, Hermione shut them as tight as she could, begging for the spinning to stop.

What the fuck happened last night?

Reaching up Hermione's hand grazed over the soft flesh of what felt like a breast. With a squeeze a moan came from someone that was not her.

Very slowly, Hermione removed the arm from her face and turned her head to look up to find where that moan had come from. Creamy olive skin and very feminine curves, lifting her head a bit, Hermione bit back a gasp at the sight of a very naked Pansy Parkinson. Her silky straight black hair spilled over a pale chest, not a strand out of place. Fucking seriously, even hungover as fuck and sleeping, Pansy still looks perfect.

Closing her eyes, another realization settled on Hermione. Pansy's head was resting on a pale chest. Letting her eyes travel up, his neck was littered in love bites, but his face was obscured by a pillow. Hermione didn't need to see his face, she suspected who Pansy was snuggled up with and Hermione did not need that confirmation of who the male participant of their threesome was.

Ninja rolling out of the tangled limbs, Hermione paused at the sound of a masculine gruff. Holding her breath, Hermione waited until she heard his breathing settle into a soft rhythm again before she finished gathering up her belongings.

With one last look at the naked couple in the bed, Hermione slipped out of the hotel room.