CHAPTER 2
End of September 1997
"Check. Mate."
"Fuck," Blaise drew out, knocking down his king, who groaned and complained as it hit the chessboard. "Good game, asshat."
"You wanna know where you made your fatal flaw?" Theo said, pointing to the board.
"Don't tell me, Nott."
"It was when you told the rook to-"
"No! I want to figure it out by myself."
"You've done it 3 times in a row now."
"Piss off," Blaise whined, taking a swig from his glass of Firewhiskey.
"Fine. But I'm sick of beating you. I wanna play someone who at least acknowledges the beauty of chess." Theo tapped the board to reset the pieces. "Draco?"
He looked up from his seat on the couch, pulled back into the conversation. "What?"
"Did we interrupt your daydreaming?" Blaise teased.
"I zoned out when you two started bickering like an old couple again," Draco said, folding his arms.
"You playing?" asked Theo.
"Who am I playing?"
"Merlin, you're distracted tonight, mate," Blaise commented, moving over to allow Draco a seat in front of the chessboard. "Better chance for me to win the tournament."
"You suck, Zabini, you're not winning anything tonight," Theo reminded him.
"Balls," Blaise said, pouring himself another glass of the amber liquid and taking over Draco's vacant seat on the couch. "Well, if we could hurry this up anyways. I have a rendezvous later tonight and I want time to freshen up."
"You just want to get out of here because you're losing," Draco said absentmindedly, making his first move on the board with a pawn.
"No, for real, mate," Blaise bragged. "I'm not even gonna tell you who, because you'd be jealous."
Theo rolled his eyes. "Is it with… a Slytherin?"
"... Yes."
"Blonde, brunette, or redhead?" Theo continued, playing a move against Draco's.
"She's got-"
"It's Greengrass," Draco guessed. "The younger one."
"You didn't even let me fully play the twenty questions," Blaise sulked. "But yeah. Astoria. Merlin, she's got a nice-"
"Clever move, Nott," Draco praised his opponent's move, interrupting Blaise. "Sorry, Zabini. I'm too good of friends with Daph to be hearing about her sister like that."
"Since when?" asked Blaise defiantly.
"Since when what?" Draco asked, capturing a pawn. "I've been close with Daph my whole life."
"No, since when did you ever turn down hearing about fine female-"
"Since you sound like a dolt going on about it," Draco interrupted again.
"Oh. Someone's a little sore about this subject," Blaise said, suddenly sitting forward.
Draco finally tore his eyes away from the chess game. "What the fuck are you on about?"
"I'm talking about you barely getting any this school year. You're jealous because I am."
"Sure, Zabini. Keep thinking that."
"You've been very quiet about your conquests. I assume because... there haven't been any."
Draco flicked a pawn to make it move forward. It yelped in response. "Just because I'm not actively pursuing at the moment doesn't make me any less of a Sex God."
"Oh, and what's stopped you this year?"
"Well, his living situation isn't very conducive to seduction," Theo noted quietly, still mostly invested in the game. He moved a knight.
"Exactly," Draco said, thankful someone was smart enough to understand. "It's a little hard to get a girl in your room when it's halfway across the castle and there's… the Head Girl reading history tomes in the common room when you step in."
"Ooh. That'd turn me off right away, too," Theo said.
"Poor you," Blaise said, cackling as he took another drink.
"Well, I've got Head Boy to put on my resumé once I'm out of here. What about you?"
"I've got a hot date tonight, my friend, and you do not."
Draco rolled his eyes, making a move on the chessboard. Blaise was obnoxious when he was drunk. "What can I say, Zabini. Being the highest Prefect in the school must have changed me."
"Or maybe living with the beast has," Theo interjected, smiling thinly as he moved his queen out of the way of capture.
"Gryffindor Granger," repeated Blaise absently, "has got you whipped."
"Again, what the fuck are you on about," Draco grunted dangerously.
"You're barely around anymore. She's got you under her thumb. Making you work on Friday nights."
"It's part of the job description."
"I think you're letting her control you," Blaise laughed into his glass.
"No," Draco snapped. "There's a difference between letting her feel she has power and actually letting her have power. Both of us in that room know who's really in control." He captured a rook, causing Theo to curse.
"Really? Could you prove it?"
This time, even Theo looked up from the board. Draco rolled his eyes. "What?"
Blaise grinned. "Prove you've got power over her. Make her do something Granger would normally never do."
Draco grimaced. "Like what?"
Blaise threw his head back, cackling. "Like get her in your bed."
Draco's eyes widened at the ludicrous suggestion in tandem with conversation about Granger. That was the last thing he had expected to hear out of his best friend's mouth, or anyone's, maybe ever. Theo stopped in the middle of his turn. The thought coursed through Draco's brain a few times. "You're joking."
"Well, I was at first," Zabini mused. "But actually… I kind of like the sound of a bet. It's been a while since we've had an exciting bet to play on."
"You're off your rocker, Blaise. Put the drink down," Theo chided.
"I'm sober enough to make a big bet."
"Are you?" Draco responded, chuckling.
Blaise laughed. "Yes. And I'll write it down. I bet you 100 galleons you couldn't seduce the girl if you tried."
"100 galleons is nothing," Draco said. "We're rich, remember?"
"I'll up the ante. 100 galleons and the newest model broomstick when it comes out."
"Got it pre-ordered already." Draco folded his arms, leaning back in his chair.
Blaise paused, leaning forward and grabbing the chess move-recording scroll and spare quill from the table in front of them. "Fine. If you win this bet, I'll sign you the deed to my beach house. Signed, B. Zabini." He held out his hand, with the paper. Draco snatched it away.
"You're definitely not sober," Theo muttered.
Blaise whipped out his wand and tapped it on his head. "Now I am. The offer still stands."
"The beach house?" Theo scoffed.
"And what's the other side of it?" Draco said warily.
"If you can't get Granger to give it up to you… you lose the title of Sex God," Blaise smirked. "And it goes to me."
Draco stared at the piece of paper. He didn't really have any use for a beach house, but if that's how confident he was… Zabini was just asking to be shot down.
"You underestimate me," Draco said, holding up the paper.
"I think you're underestimating Granger." Blaise smiled. He held out his hand over the gap between them. "What do you say, Malfoy?"
Draco pondered it for a moment. This whole time he had been more concerned about Zabini's overconfidence than the actual contents of the deal. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe Zabini was right for betting high. If he accepted, he may actually run the risk of failing, and the very idea of that terrified him. Any other girl was any other girl, but Hermione Granger was a different creature. She was more of a… shrew.
But even stronger than Draco's rational sense of doubt was his ego. There was no way he would admit that this was an impossible conquest. However, Draco thought, if he really put his mind to it, he might be able to seduce the Gryffindor. It would be hard work for him, but he was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. His very personality was getting what he wanted out of people.
And even stronger than Draco's pride was his skill at making proper business deals.
"Well, it's getting late, my friend. I wouldn't want you to miss your meeting with the little Greengrass."
"Don't distract from the subject," Blaise said, picking up the Firewhiskey bottle and taking a full swig to intoxicate himself again.
"Let's sleep on it," Draco proposed. "And we'll discuss tomorrow. At breakfast. If you're still up for it."
"Fine," Blaise said, standing from the couch and walking past Draco to the dorm halls, slapping him on the shoulder on the way. "Good night, my friend."
Draco let out an irritated breath, moving his queen on the board while Theo watched. "Checkmate."
"Bloody hell," Theo mused, shaking his head at the board. "Are you really gonna take the deal, mate?" he said, hushed, bewildered.
"You don't think I can do it, do you?" Draco asked, eyeing his other best friend quizzically.
Theo chewed on his lip. "It'd be mighty fucking impressive."
.*.*.*.
Draco stalked down the hall back to the dorm, the thought still nagging in the back of his head.
Part of the reason he had asked to adjourn for the night was because he needed to get a feel on things. He needed to know if a beach house was in his future or if he should decline. The only way he could do this was to approach the beast herself. To gauge if there was any possibility that she could be tamed. To let the thought of carrying through with the persuasion marinate. It was his balls on the line, anyways. Literally.
He spoke the password to the portrait door then stepped inside, wondering where the girl would be tonight. Walking down the hallway, he checked their common room in passing, then the office (truly expecting her to still be in there, fretting over the paperwork he had convinced her not to make them file), but she wasn't there. He continued towards his own bedroom, past Hermione's closed door. He paused for a moment, listening to see if she was inside, before he remembered that the rooms were soundproofed so it was no use. She was probably dead asleep, already at midnight on a Friday. Scoffing to himself, he continued down the hall only to be startled by the opening of the bathroom door.
Granger jumped back, shrieking. "Malfoy!" she yelled, grabbing the towel that had almost fallen from around her body.
"Oh. Hello, Granger," he said, allowing his eyes just one quick sweep down her figure and back to her eyes.
Granger noticed and her shoulders shifted in discomfort. "What the fuck?"
"What?"
"Why are you here?" she half-whispered.
Draco looked around sarcastically. "Well, this is my dorm."
"I thought you were out tonight."
"I was. But I'm back now."
Granger awkwardly adjusted her towel around herself. "Alright. Could you get out my way now?" She eyed her exit towards her bedroom around Draco's side. Her hair was dripping wet, sending droplets down her bare shoulders. She looked flushed with embarrassment. It was a compromising position he had never seen her in, and he appreciated the glimpse into what he was working with.
"Got any fun plans for the rest of the night?" Draco asked, deciding to use this time to size her up. While she was nice and vulnerable.
Granger blinked at him. "Are you drunk?"
Draco shrugged. "Few shots of Firewhiskey."
"Right," she mused, examining Draco's face with a look bordering on disgust.
"Like I asked. What are you up to?"
"I'm going to sleep. It's midnight."
"It's only midnight," Draco corrected.
"I don't know, what did you have in mind?" Granger said drily, still eying her bedroom door. "Maybe, if you're staying up, you could get started on some filing work. Now that I think about it, I don't know if I'm comfortable with having the office be a wreck with stacks of paper everywhere."
"That's your idea of a fun activity together?" Draco mocked, leaning against the wall.
Granger smiled facetiously. "I wasn't suggesting we do anything together. Goodnight, Malfoy."
With that, she slid past him to her door, a flash of flesh and towel and wet Granger hair, and Draco let his eyes follow until the door was closed behind her. With one last clandestine look at her bare legs, he allowed himself a chuckle to himself.
He would be an absolute liar if he said it hadn't at least crossed his mind, at least once. A brief image of hate-fucking Granger, during the very worst of their spats during the first week of the school year, no less-he couldn't say he hadn't thought of it. He couldn't say that the thought of something, anything to release the incredible tension in this room hadn't occurred to him in the past month or so. Who knows. Maybe one brief fuck session would be the tension-breaker they needed. The more Malfoy thought about it, the more he quite enjoyed the idea. A quiet room. Where Granger understood the ground rules.
Zabini's bet was on, at least if Zabini was still up for it. It might be a challenge, but it would be a fun challenge. A worthy one.
.*.*.*.
"Good morning," Zabini crooned, a sickly-sweet smile on his dashing features.
"Good morning," said Draco over his black coffee, his arms folded. He wasn't here to play games anymore.
"Well, I hope you've slept on it. I didn't really sleep, but… I don't know, I'm feeling good. Kind of feeling like a Sex God," teased Zabini, settling into the bench across the table from Draco.
Draco took a quick glance at his surroundings. It was early enough that the Slytherin table had just a few stragglers few and far between. Perfect environment for a quiet deal. Draco turned to Zabini.
"The title still belongs to me, my friend." He held out his hand for the piece of paper Blaise had pinched between his fingers, waving tauntingly.
"So you'll be defending your title," Blaise clarified.
"I'll also be receiving a beach house," Draco noted, plucking the piece of paper with the scrawled deal from the center of the table. Carefully folding it, he slid it into his cloak pocket for safekeeping.
Blaise let out what could only be described as a giggle. "Oooh, this is exciting. Wait till I tell Theo-"
"Zabini," Draco stopped him threateningly. "Nott's the only one who gets to know about this. If I hear that anyone else finds out, the deal is off. That's my condition."
Blaise leaned his forearm on the table. "Fine. We've also got to discuss the matter of proof. How are we going to know if you actually get the Gryffindor?"
"Did you have any ideas?"
"I was thinking: a pair of panties."
Draco mulled over the idea of taking this too-easy out before he realized that being caught in an untruthful win could very well threaten his title much more than a dignified loss. "Too easy. I have access to her panty drawer daily and easily."
Blaise raised his eyebrows. "I'd say honor system, but do you really have any honor?"
"Careful, Zabini," Draco said. "We'll operate on honor until you think of something else."
"Sounds fine to me," Blaise agreed. "Shake on it?"
Their hands clasped over the table, sealing the deal and starting the game.
Draco smirked.
.*.*.
Hogwarts, beginning of October 1997
Hermione stalked into the Head Prefects room after classes on Monday, her head swimming with assignments and grades and study plans for her upcoming exams. She had a lot to do before her rounds tonight. Cautiously peeking into the common room, she was relieved to see that it was empty and she had the place to herself that afternoon. Letting out a long sigh, she dropped her shoulders and tossed her book bag onto the couch. She wriggled out of her cloak, letting it fall over the couch edge as she tossed herself next to her book bag, letting her feet prop up on the arm of the couch. She took a few meditative breaths and closed her eyes, mentally planning out her next few hours, putting assignments into the timetable of her afternoon.
She had a lot to do if she was going to improve her Arithmancy grade she had just gotten back. She was finding it hard to spend as much time on her studies as she would have liked, what with having to manage Head Girl duties and all.
She thought a little bit more about the rest of her week's schedule. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all going to be practicing at the Quidditch field later tonight, but perhaps she could catch up with them between their practice and her shift, if she was able to sneak off a few minutes early to meet them at dinner. She'd be missing their study time, which was a shame, but she had taken on a shift this evening so that they could hang out on Wednesday-the thought of a normal evening in her normal common room with her normal friends sounded delightful. Especially since it didn't come as often this year, what with all three of her best friends being Quidditch-obsessed and her being, well, plain busy.
She should have gotten up and made her way to the library, but something about being stretched out on the couch was just so comfortable, and her eyes stayed closed as her breathing began to slow-
"Granger."
Hermione's eyes fought to open. It was so bright, and she winced at the sudden awakening and the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. "What in Merlin's-"
"Granger, I hate to wake you, but you're going to miss dinner."
"What?" Hermione mumbled, pulling herself out of her heavy drowsiness. With a sharp intake of breath, she sat herself up, almost colliding heads with a certain Slytherin. Her legs askew and her skirt hiked up rather high for her taste, she quickly yanked her skirt down and rolled off the couch. "What time is it?" she asked frantically, looking at the blond as her last hope.
He checked his wristwatch. "It's almost seven. No worries."
"Seven!" Hermione shouted, examining the room like she was looking for something. What exactly, she didn't know. "Shit, my shift."
Malfoy, rather unhelpful, just laughed. "You were dead asleep. I've never seen someone out that hard."
"Malfoy, shut up!" Hermione shrieked, panicked, not knowing exactly what to do with herself. She had just missed a shift as Head Girl. How was she going to make her way out of that one? Still foggy from such a deep sleep, she rubbed at her eyes and grabbed frantically for her cloak.
"Calm down, Granger. Your shift was covered. No need to shriek like a banshee."
Hermione took a few short breaths, centering herself. "What?"
"I covered your shift. When I walked in here and you were cold passed out, I made Justin Long fill in. He's got no say, on probation, anyways."
Hermione stared at the Slytherin, trying to decide if what she felt was horror or it was just a remnant of her abrupt awakening. "Why would you do that?"
Malfoy lifted an eyebrow, taking a slow step forward. "Does there have to be a reason?"
"No, but you're a proven prick," Hermione answered, shuffling her cloak over her arm, and backing up to regain the space between them. "And you wouldn't do anything decent for no good reason, even if your life depended on it."
"Ouch," said Malfoy, sending her a smirk and crossing his arms over his chest. "But who's to say I did it without reason?"
Hermione glared, not even trying to understand what he meant by it.
Malfoy shrugged, breaking the tense stare. "Let's just say you owe me one." He walked around the edge of the couch, picking up Hermione's book bag with a finger and holding it out to her teasingly.
"Oh, so this was about having one up on me," Hermione said, connecting the dots. She took the book bag from him, disliking the smugness that had come over the blond. Even more than usual.
"It wasn't about anything."
"Bull shit."
"Granger, you're too tense." He stepped forward, setting his hands on her shoulders. Her face scrunched up staring at him.
"What are you doing?" she asked flatly.
"You think too much," he said lowly. She turned to look at the hand on one shoulder. She briefly wondered if perhaps she was still napping and deliriously imagining this situation. Oddly enough, she had previously had a rather unwanted fever dream that started in almost the same exact way.
"Okay, you can stop touching me now." She calmly pulled away. "I have no idea what that was about, but let's not have that happen again."
Malfoy smirked at her. "I do like the thought of you owing me."
Hermione's face contorted, feeling the hint of an undertone in his suggestion that she was quite wary of. Was he on something? Was he unwell? "Whatever you're thinking, get it out of your head." Fighting off a pounding heart, she slung her book bag over her shoulder in a swift move that removed her a step or two away from the Slytherin. "I'm going to dinner."
There was a blank silence from Malfoy as Granger hurried towards the door, determined to catch the last of main course from the Great Hall.
.*.*.*.
At Wednesday's Quidditch practice, Blaise was already bothering Draco about the bet.
"You're impatient as hell, mate," Draco chastised him while lacing up his gear. "Rome wasn't built in a day."
"I'm just saying, the quickest I've seduced a girl after meeting her is 2 hours," Blaise prodded. "And you've known Granger for how long…?"
"The reason why we have this bet is because Granger is different," Draco corrected. "The impossible conquest. You can't rush me on this. It's been 5 days. Plus, we barely see each other, contrary to what you might believe. We've arranged a nice little way to avoid each other's schedules as much as possible."
"5 days and you haven't said a word about it," Blaise corrected, bringing them back to his original topic. "Don't think I'm going to forget about this. No matter how long you try and stretch this out."
Draco started to work on his shin guard. "Listen, Zabini. I'm still forming strategy. A game plan. It's going to take a moment to feel things out where I stand. See where the weaknesses are, where I should play forward and where I should play defensive."
Blaise nodded, understanding it in Quidditch terms. "Fair enough. But just remember, the real goal is the Golden Snitch. And that's what makes or breaks the score in the end."
Draco sneered, while Blaise stuck on his helmet and patted the broomstick in his hand. "Ready for practice?"
.*.*.*.
It was finally agreed upon that Sunday evenings were a good time for paperwork, for the both of them. They would do a short preliminary meeting on Friday evening, but save the bulk of the work for the end of the weekend.
It was eight in the evening, and she had just stepped into the office with her sleeves rolled up to work. Malfoy would be late, for all she knew, and she was tired. She had a Transfiguration exam the next day that she had been practicing for all afternoon, which had completely drained her, and she still had Runes to cram for, as they were having an unfortunately timed exam on Wednesday.
To her surprise, Malfoy bustled into the room only a minute past their scheduled meeting time. Hermione turned around from where she was at her desk and watched him set down his bag, sliding off his cloak. His hair was more than damp today, dripping a little bit onto his white shirt, leaving little droplet marks on the fabric. He looked at her pointedly. Hermione took in the situation with vague confusion.
"Hello?"
"I wasn't late," he said.
She peeked at the clock above their desks. "I mean, you were. By about a minute. But it's better than 20."
"You're never really satisfied, are you, Granger?"
Hermione laughed. "I don't know what you expect," she said flippantly, unsure of how to really respond to his odd comment, turning to return to her desk. "You did what you were supposed to. Congratulations. Schedule, reports, citations. Then I've got to study."
Malfoy sat in his chair across from hers, his hair still dripping onto his shirt. Hermione couldn't help but watch with strange fascination. "Are you going to dry that or what?"
"What?"
Hermione sniggered. "One of the oldest tricks in the wizarding books. Drying your own hair." She picked up her wand, aiming it as if to perform the quick-drying spell.
"Don't," interrupted Malfoy, waving her wand away. "I like to let it air-dry."
"It's literally dripping wet."
Malfoy just raised his eyebrows at her.
"Alright, weirdo." She sat down in her chair, pulling her stack of paperwork over onto her lap. "Let's get this over with."
"Right," said Malfoy, standing out of his chair to suddenly lean towards Hermione. She retreated back in her seat out of shock as his body came within inches of her own-a total intrusion into personal space. A drip of water from his hair tumbled down and landed on her paperwork in a splotch as he looked down at her for a moment, their eyes making uncomfortable contact as he leaned over her.
Instantly Hermione's instinctive reactions kicked in. Within seconds, Hermione had set a hand on Malfoy's solar plexus and shoved hard, sending him flying back to his seat.
"Merlin, Granger, what was that for?"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"I was just grabbing my paperwork," protested the blond, looking majorly offended.
"Why was it on my desk?"
"I could ask you the same question."
Noticing the water splotch on the first sheet, she held it up. "Look what you did."
"You are a strange girl," Malfoy muttered, shaking his head. He snapped his wand at the paper, removing the water stain.
"And you're bloody insane," Hermione chided. "Next time ask me to hand you the paperwork instead of creeping on my space. Thanks."
Her face burned, and she buried it in her paperwork until she was able to push it down and away.