CHAPTER 7
Before and During the Holidays, December 1997
Hermione was glad she had taught herself the hangover cure from Malfoy's suggested Forbidden book. It made life so much easier when she woke up after Slughorn's party, her head instantly flooding with pain and patchy memories and… regret.
"Fuck," Hermione said, sitting up far too fast. She pressed her hands to her head, trying to ride out some of the pain before fumbling for her wand and performing the little spell that removed her hangover like a bathtub drain removed water from a tub.
Once pain-free, Hermione pulled herself out of bed. Before going to sleep, she had managed to pull herself out of her party dress into her pajamas. She picked out an outfit before wrapping a towel around her shoulders, peeking out into the hallway to make sure she wouldn't run into Malfoy-
Malfoy.
Shit.
Had she really asked him if he'd ever sleep with her? Or was that just something she had said in her head? Suddenly, she remembered snippets of talking to Malfoy about Ron-why had she done that?
And then she remembered kissing him-the feeling of heat and rushing blood that had overwhelmed her when he picked her up, then the disappointment of being on her own bed and realizing he was leaving. For a while she had wished he'd stayed. Kept her company and distracted her from the feeling of failure she had been grappling with for the latter half of the night. But he had left, leaving her to cry and sift through her emotions whilst her liver did similar work with the alcohol in her blood.
It was probably for the best. On any other normal occasion, was she thinking about sleeping with Malfoy? No, her rational brain said.
Not that often, anyways.
She continued to scan the hallways, noticed the empty bathroom door, and beelined it there, thankful that this morning she had the dormitory to herself to gather herself and sit in her own regrets.
.*.*.*.
Draco walked into the dormitory after a long day of putting in the work on the Quidditch field, wondering if Granger was going to be there and wondering how that was going to look. Either she was going to pretend she didn't remember anything, or she was going to act awkward about it-he knew it had to be one of those, and he had to be adequately prepared to deal with either one. He stepped through the hallway, stopping at the office door where he found her, hunched over the schedule.
"Whoa. What are you doing?" he asked, Quidditch bag still in hand. "Are you making the schedule without me?"
"Sorry. Getting things done. I took your conflicts into account, you can always switch your shifts later," she said without looking up.
"Since when did we make the schedules separately?"
"I just wanted to get things done, that's all."
Draco was a little irritated, knowing that with Granger's control issues, this would spiral and next thing he knew she'd be making all the decisions without him. He reached into the room towards his desk, picked up an apple candy, and tossed it at her head, causing her to finally look up at him.
"What was that for?"
"You don't have to start going batshit with work because you feel awkward."
"Feel awkward about what?" she protested.
She was a terrible liar.
"You know what I'm talking about-"
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That was so weird for me, and like, I don't even know why I would ask that to anyone, especially you, because you're disgusting-"
"That sounded like an apology, until you called me disgusting."
"Just, sorry."
"If I'm so disgusting, why did you kiss me?" he laughed irritatedly.
"I was drunk, okay?"
Draco continued to observe her from the other side of his desk by the door. "You broke the contract. You didn't let me agree to the terms before you took action."
Granger winced, finally setting down her quill and turning her face away. "I am… sorry about that."
"We're uneven again," he warned jokingly. "But I'll let it slide. You're fine, Granger. We were both tipsy. You were trying to sleep with me. It's understandable. Maybe another time, though."
He could see the color stain her cheeks as she cleared her throat before looking up at him. "Can we pretend like last night didn't happen? It would make finishing work before break a lot easier."
"Do you really think I'm going to let such beautiful blackmail go to waste?"
"Do you really think I couldn't curse you into the next millennium in the matter of 10 seconds?"
Draco set down his bag and leaned against the wall, nodding. "So, what are we even talking about right now?"
"Right," Granger said warningly.
"What do we need to get done before break, anyways?"
"You're really going to launch right into a work conversation?"
"Uh, yes. That's why we're here in the first place."
"We need to get a lot done," Granger said, sighing. "Too much, I'd say, before finals and in the few days after exams."
"We could stay late before break begins. Or come back early," Draco suggested. It only occurred to him long after making the proposal that either option would mean plenty of quiet alone time with Granger, without distraction, in the sanctuary of their dormitory. It was perfect.
"Well, I have plans at the Burrow pretty much the day we're released," Granger mulled over. "However, I could come back a few days early."
.*.*.*.
Finals came and went, and the Head Boy and Head Girl left for their respective holiday quarters, Draco to his Manor and Hermione to the Burrow. All was merry and well.
Draco stepped through the doors of the huge Manor, the closing door echoing behind him in the empty, dark space. His mother was there, somewhere, or she would be later, but until then he brought his bags upstairs into his room, regal and impersonal, and sat down on the silver cover. It was so lonely here, and for the first time he really missed walking into the cramped dormitory and seeing Granger.
.*.*.*.
"Have you gotten your presents yet?"
"For almost everyone. I'm so bad at picking gifts, you know this, Ginny."
"That's why I'm here to help you."
The two strolled into Blot & Flourish, Hermione smiling at the new titles and old titles arranged so beautifully on the shelves. Ginny went straight to the desk to ask about the new recipe book her mum wanted, but Hermione was examining the featured books and wondering if any of her friends would really be happy to unwrap a book on Christmas Eve.
Hermione barely noticed the tinkling of the door chimes, signaling someone entering the store, until she felt a tickle at her neck and a familiar voice in her ear.
"Hey."
Hermione yelped, jumping in the air and knocking her elbow into a tall blonde standing behind her. Customers nearby turned to look at her, as did Ginny and the shopkeeper at the front desk, but Hermione didn't even notice, even as her redhead friend ogled the pair standing close to each other, furiously whispering.
"Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people?"
"It's a bookstore. I was trying to be quiet."
"You arse," Hermione said, fighting the urge to smack him in the arm. "What are you doing here?"
"Some holiday shopping. You?"
"Likewise," Hermione said. "Who are you shopping for?"
"Well. My mother, mostly, who's hard to shop for because she deserves the world. A few of the good friends. And, interestingly enough, for you."
Hermione raised her eyebrows as Draco pushed forth a shopping bag from his hand towards her. She reluctantly took it.
"Is it a cursed piece of jewelry? Too bad that's already been pulled on Katie."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Just see what it is. It's nothing special."
Hermione reached into the bag, pulling out a tied satchel of the apple candies from the dormitory. An unexpected grin creeped over her face.
"Happy Christmas, Granger."
"You too," she said, but he was already walking out the door, giving a look behind him before he disappeared into the winter air of the street, his long black coat billowing behind him in the snow.
"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Ginny said, startling Hermione from her trance as she watched him walk out. Hermione whipped around, panicked.
"It was a Christmas present," she said, almost as confused as Ginny.
.*.*.
Back to Hogwarts early, beginning of January 1998
The holiday break was long but well-needed, and Hermione felt refreshed yet hesitant as she packed up the last of her things from the Burrow. This would be the last holiday break from school, and maybe the last one where they'd all be together like this. It was time for their last semester at Hogwarts, except for Ginny, but Ginny seemed to be feeling the melancholy as well.
"Tell me why you're leaving early again?" she asked, kicking at the leg of the table. Ron stuffed another forkful of late breakfast into his mouth.
"She's got to go hang out with Malfoy," he said bitterly.
"I am not," Hermione snapped quickly, "hanging out with him. At least not willfully. There's so much bloody paperwork to do, it's not funny."
"After seeing what you go through, it makes me even gladder not to be chosen as Head Boy," said Harry, walking over to give Hermione a brief hug. "We'll see you in a few days."
"A lot can happen in a few days," Ginny said suspiciously.
Hermione shot a look at the girl. It's not like she could have known anything, but still. She hated to think anything could be implied about… the two of them.
"Please hurry. I won't be able to last long without my dearest friends."
"Bye, 'Mione."
"See you!"
"Don't have too much fun without me," Hermione said, pulling her trunk along behind her with her wand. Once she was at the Portkey, she found herself popping to the gates of Hogwarts, all too suddenly back to the reality that was her academic life.
And back to the dormitory, where Malfoy already was, strolling out of his bedroom to greet her in the hallway.
"Hello, Granger. How was your holiday?"
.*.*.*.
A few hours later, once Hermione was unpacked and she had eaten a late lunch packed by Molly Weasley, it was time to get started on the plethora of work awaiting them. Hermione sighed loudly, walking into the office. Malfoy was already in his chair, feet up and holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.
"What's this?"
"A letter from McGonagall," Malfoy said absentmindedly, holding up the papers he was holding.
"No, I meant the other hand."
"Oh," he said, swiveling around finally. "To help us sort all this shit. And to toast to the beginning of the end. Our last semester here."
"It's 3 in the afternoon."
"What better time to start day drinking?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What a great example for the Head Boy to set. Alcoholism."
Malfoy just shot her a menacing look. "Fine. More for me." He set down the letter from McGonagall, popped open the bottle in a smooth, effortless flip, and poured a fair amount into a glass he had conjured onto his desk.
Pouting, Hermione stomped over to her desk and reached across to grab the letter from McGonagall.
"Dear Head Prefects," Hermione began reading to herself. A moment later, she nearly jumped in her chair. "What?" she exclaimed to the nearly silent room.
Malfoy sipped at his champagne. "Right?"
"She wants us to-how?"
Shrugging, Malfoy silently conjured up a glass for the girl staring bug-eyed at the letter.
"A whole Spring Ball? I never read about Head Boy and Girl having to coordinate a whole event, never in the History of Hogwarts-right before our exams! Right before graduation!"
"Does day drinking sound more reasonable now?"
Hermione just held out her hand for the glass Malfoy had poured. She took a sizable swig, wincing at the bubbles. "Bloody hell. As if we don't have enough on our plates."
"It won't be until spring proper," Malfoy said, sighing. "So we have a few months."
"We should probably get all this done before we even think about what planning a Ball will take."
Hermione sulkingly grabbed the stack of papers they'd be starting on. McGonagall had really thrown them a huge project to worry about, in their very last semester at Hogwarts. Hermione wondered if there was any way she could get out of it-pleading, bargaining, letting Malfoy take on all the work. But that wouldn't be possible. She figured out long ago that when McGonagall made up her mind, she didn't budge, no matter what.
"Is there any way… you could choose another Head Boy? Does it really have to be Malfoy, of all people?"
"Mr. Malfoy was the top choice for Head Boy. He's already been informed and prepped for his duties, as you have been. There's no changing this arrangement now."
"But Professor McGonagall, please. Then-then I'll give up Head Girl. I cannot function as a leader of this school working with-with-him!"
"It's too late to choose another Head Girl. You were also the top choice. There's no escaping the duty you have to this school. Now please, leave my office unless you have a true concern to talk about."
Hermione pulled herself out of her memories with another chug of champagne.
Look where she was now. Multiple kisses later and a drunken confession, she had to remember to retain control over the situation. She had made a vow to herself to let the new semester be a fresh start-without all the confusion and weakness she had shown.
Her and Malfoy could be… friends, maybe. Yeah, friends. That was even a stretch, but maybe it was better than whatever was happening before.
"On a positive note," said Malfoy across the office, "Justin Long has promised to step up his game this semester."
"Long? Psh, yeah right."
"A handwritten letter and all."
"So many letters," Hermione grumbled, grabbing the proffered letter from Malfoy's outstretched hand. "Okay. Well, let's hope, because I don't want to be filling in for his shifts ever again."
"He's probably saving his own arse. After you threatened him."
"What are you talking about?"
"You have to remember that. When you went after him with your wand up to his throat?"
"Oh, that."
"That's so typical for you that you forgot that even happened? And I thought I was bossy," grumbled Malfoy.
"Long needed a wake-up. He can't be acting like that as a Prefect. I would expect more, even from a Slytherin."
An apple candy hit the side of Hermione's head with precision and a tiny sting of pain. Malfoy had used his wand to chuck one at her. Hermione flicked her wand to fling it back at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead.
She laughed, before watching him pick it up, unwrap it, and pop it in his mouth, dodging her eyes away at the last minute before he looked back at her.
.*.*.
As they took their respective breaks from the work they were so diligently working on, Draco internally cursed himself. He was supposed to be associating positive things with those apple candies, not chucking them at her whenever he needed to get her attention. But perhaps it was all the same: she was starting to associate the apple candies with him. Without her even knowing it.
Early Quidditch training was an easy diversion for Draco, and a perfect excuse to let the two have their space from each other. Granger's favorite break space was the library, or out by Hagrid's hut greeting all the wild magical creatures the giant had prepared for the next class. Thankfully, it was across the grounds from the Quidditch pitch, so they had their own separate sides to retreat from during the long week they had to work together. A break was surely needed.
And it was only the second day.
As Draco hauled himself back from the Quidditch pitch, he remembered McGonagall's request that they prepare a Spring Ball for the entirety of the school. He kicked a stone as hard as he could, and it flew into a nearby tree. If there was one thing he didn't want to do, it was to plan for something like that. If he even had to go to one more stuffy school dance, it was going to be hell.
But as he walked off the pain in his toe from kicking that rock so thoughtlessly, he decided to stop thinking about McGonagall's request and start reflecting on what he was going to tell Zabini when he came back.
Draco had been thinking over break. It was a lot of time to himself to ponder, and even though he had gone through all that effort to purchase Granger those candies-and unexpectedly gift them to her-he wasn't quite sure where this was heading anymore.
Things had seemed to cool off during the winter break, literally and metaphorically. Yes, he had felt a jolt of… something, when Granger walked in through the portrait door for the first time after the holidays and he had recognized the reality of them being alone, almost completely alone, in the Hogwarts castle.
But it seemed that the burning sexual tension that had existed before they had left had simmered away to exactly how things were before. Strained, but without the fun of it all. Without the advantage he used to have over Granger. Even if they had left off with him having the upper hand.
For a while, Draco had sped through the air on a broomstick, wondering if it was time to give it up. For his sake, and hers. It wasn't that he didn't think he could pull it off. It was just that he didn't think it was worth his efforts anymore. Or… Granger's. Not that she really mattered in all of this. Except… she did. Draco rolled his eyes at his own inner dialogue.
As Draco finally got to the castle doors, he tried to think of how he could explain it to Zabini that he wanted to call it off, without sounding like he was wimping out. There were finals to worry about, there was work to worry about, there were things he wanted to accomplish-
But he knew getting off the hook for this bet wouldn't be that easy. If he were to forfeit, it would stain the rest of his Hogwarts career-Zabini would hold it over him… It would be truly un-Slytherin to cash out with a half-assed attempt.
Draco was still thinking about it as he got back to the dormitory. Hermione wasn't in the office or common room and her bedroom door was cracked with no one inside. He took the opportunity to peer into her Gryffindor-colored room, tidy except for the many books strewn across its many surfaces: over the desk, a few casually stacked on the floor, one open on her bed. He briefly wondered where she got so many books, and just how fast of a reader she was if she had so many open.
Draco showered, cleaning the sweat and stress off of his body so he could approach tonight's round of paperwork with a fresh outlook. He wrapped a towel around his waist, ran his fingers through his hair, then stepped out of the bathroom right into a moving object.
A shriek pierced through the air as Draco tripped, nearly falling before catching himself with one hand on the wall. His towel slipping, he grabbed at it with the other hand, staring at Granger who was pulling herself off of the hallway carpet, gaping like a fish.
"You're back," he said snippily, watching her brush herself off.
"I'm so sorry," she stammered, turning her face away.
"Why were you running full-speed down the hallway?"
"I wasn't running, you're just like a rock-"
"Well, excuse me," Draco mocked, not missing the way she had cut off after her roundabout compliment on his toned physique.
"I feel like this kind of situation happens a little too often," she lamented, flushed.
"Does it?" Draco said, righting himself. "I'll be on my way."
"Right," Granger said, looking down as he brushed past her narrowly towards his room.
And there it was, the reason to continue. He wouldn't have to call it off with Zabini after all. The way he noticed her following him with her eyes, nearly imperceptibly. The way she froze up. And the way he wanted that situation to happen again, although neither of them had planned the times it had happened.
.*.*.
At the time they had planned on reconvening to continue their work, Hermione was in the office nearly hyperventilating.
The confusion from last semester was back, perhaps stronger than ever. She was mortified.
Thankfully, Malfoy was walking into the office fully clothed, and she immediately launched into apology mode, even if he didn't really deserve it at all.
"I apologize for earlier. I-"
"It's alright, Granger. No harm, no foul."
"I still feel the need to apologize. It was uncomfortable, and rightly so."
"Uncomfortable for whom?" Malfoy pried.
"For both of us, I assume," Hermione argued, eyebrows furrowing.
"Running into you and almost falling wasn't a pleasure, but I wasn't uncomfortable. You're projecting, maybe."
"You weren't uncomfortable with being rammed into half-naked in the hallway. By me."
"Well, it didn't feel great to get slammed into, but what's the big deal anyways?"
"What are you implying?" Hermione tossed out, trying to figure out what the fuck the Slytherin was meaning by all this.
"We've talked about this."
"About what?" Hermione asked, frustrated.
"Not letting anything get in the way of work."
Hermione's lip twitched. She was hoping to avoid the topic of last year, however, she guessed that's where the conversation was heading anyways. She didn't really know where else it could go, at this point.
"When you say uncomfortable," Malfoy said, stepping forward into the office and picking up an apple candy, "what kind of discomfort are you talking about?" He placed the candy on his tongue. "Are you talking about disgust? Or are you talking about a different kind of discomfort?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed. "I'm talking about how it's going to be weird for us to sit in the same room now and work on paperwork when that just happened and we didn't talk about it."
"And you think talking's going to help," he deduced, sitting on the edge of his desk. Hermione straightened.
"Yes, we can acknowledge that it was an uncomfortable situation, awkwardly laugh about it, and then move on."
"Is that what's going to happen?"
"I had thought so," Hermione said, the anger dotting her voice.
"Okay. Well, let's say we laughed about it. Now let's start on this paperwork so we can sleep at an acceptable hour, maybe."
"That's it?" Hermione deadpanned. What she was expecting from this conversation, she didn't know. But it wasn't Malfoy's resistance. And it wasn't the way she now wanted him to grab her and kiss her, settle the score they left it off at before break, before she had gotten a chance to get away and convince herself Malfoy wasn't worth it.
Now Malfoy looked at her like he was also wondering if that was really it, if they were really just going to move onto paperwork now. The look in his eyes made Hermione extremely agitated.
"Yeah, paperwork," she said with saccharine sarcasm, walking up to him with a fresh stack and holding it out to him. He took the other side of the papers, Hermione let go, and started on a case with distracted fervor. After a few seconds of not even being able to focus on the first few lines of text, and being aware that Malfoy was still perched on the edge of his desk, humming to himself and not doing anything with the papers, Hermione growled and tossed down her quill.
"You know, you are infuriating," she said lowly, as he stared back unaffected.
"Then do something about it."
Hermione stood up, stormed over to where he was sitting, and opened her mouth to speak just before he grabbed her hand, pulled her towards him, and the room went silent. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart as she stood, between his legs at the edge of the desk, nose to nose with Malfoy.
Who closed the gap, it wasn't so certain-but the next thing she knew, their lips were smashed together with all the pent-up fury in the Hogwarts castle.
She had kissed him before, but it had never been this harsh. It was as if all the other times were laced with hesitancy or false gentleness, and this was really how it was supposed to be while kissing Malfoy. His teeth pulled at her lower lip, and she dug her fingers into his collar, pulling him closer furiously. Papers tumbled carelessly to the floor as Draco grabbed her waist, pulling her up to sit sidesaddle on his lap, a hand staying high up on her side. She didn't refuse, only made a frustrated but pleasured sound. She wasn't going to stop it this time. It was like she was still drunk, and it was still the night of Slughorn's part, and she still wanted him-no, just someone-to treat her so well and so bad at the same time.
It wasn't long before Malfoy was moving his lips to her neck.
"Is this okay?"
"Yes," she snapped impatiently as he nibbled at her throat. Fire was spreading throughout her whole body. Gently, he leaned her down onto the disorganized desktop, continuing to service her neck with kisses both gentle and not, and she dragged a hand up to his hair, pulling him to her lips again with less kindness. He grunted, but obliged, nearly on top of her and breathing quickly. Hermione set a hand on his side, greedily feeling his slender figure. She traced his abdomen further and further down-
"Granger."
"What?" she huffed. He had paused from their furious snogging and was looking at her with a look that was amused, shocked, and confused at the same time.
"We should-we should get back to work."
Hermione froze, blinked at him. "Are you-are you serious?"
He just looked at her from his dominant angle. She fought back a frustrated scream by pushing him off of her and pulling herself up off of the desk, straightening her outfit.
"We should," she said, snapping herself into her cool and unbothered demeanor. She adjusted a button on her blouse, then turned to him with the most businesslike manner she could muster. "Better pick up that paperwork."
There was nothing else she wanted to do less than paperwork.