A/N and Disclaimer: You all know the routine. I own nothing. I'm poor.
Don't sue me. I have no money. I own Kai. That's it.
SORRY that it's so late! Don't kill me. Over Christmas break, I had more
than I thought to do. Namely two a day swim practices. I'm so sorry. Don't
be mad? *looks hopeful* Thank you to everyone who's reviewed. I can't
remember you all off the top of my head, but you're all wonderful!
~-~
After Draco had left, Hermione promply started banging her head hard on the wall. Over and over and over and over. you get the picture.
'What have I done! Oh god, Harry and Ron are going to kill me if they ever found out! Wait! They'll never find out!' she thought frantically to herself. 'I hope.' Siging in resignation, she picted up her bag and went to go see a girl about a party.
~+
'Father is not going to be pleased,' Draco thought gleefully. 'That bastard.'
+~
Just as he said he would be, Draco was there on time. He was dressed what Hermione could only guess to be casual clothing to a Malfoy. Poor dears wouldn't know casual if it hit them on the buttucks and flew around in front of their face with a neon sign saying 'HEY! I'm Casual!'.
Hermione just shook her head, walking up to him. "Draco, that's Armani you're wearing."
"Very observant, Hermione. To what do I owe this moment of the obvious?" Draco replied sarcastically.
"Armani isn't exactly considered casual clothing in the Muggle world," she eyed him over. "I thought that /you/ would be the smart one in your family."
"You caught me, I'm a woolhead."
Hermione almost gagged on the name. She'd read it in a book(s) once. She loved the Wheel of Time chronicles. "You read Robert Jordan?"
Draco's eyes gleamed mischeviously as he started to remove his coat to reviel a simple black t-shirt. "Why, yes, I do. It /is/ about magic. I also read other things. I'm not daft."
"I know you aren't stupid," Hermione retorted, blushing from slight anger.
"Do you?" Draco arched a perfect silvery eyebrow. He'd now stripped (a/n: yes. It sounds naughty, doesn't it. But no! not now.) and into normal, everyday clothing.
Hermione blinked slightly as she realized the transformation. "What? You came here dressed up and now. this." She motioned to him.
"I told my father I was going on a date at a nice resturaunt with a rich, pureblooded witch," he replied causally, as if it was nothing lying to his father. a Death Eater.
Sighing iritably, Hermione gave up on waiting for him and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the closest dance club she could find.
"Dance," Hermione said, smile inching across her face.
"Excuse me?" Draco said, again arching an eyebrow at her, as if questioning her sanity.
"Like this." Hermione let the music of the techno and trance blaring in the club to overcome her and allow her to forget everything. All that really mattered was to dance, have fun and the music.
'Oh god.' Draco thought to himself. 'What have I gotten into?'
After Draco had left, Hermione promply started banging her head hard on the wall. Over and over and over and over. you get the picture.
'What have I done! Oh god, Harry and Ron are going to kill me if they ever found out! Wait! They'll never find out!' she thought frantically to herself. 'I hope.' Siging in resignation, she picted up her bag and went to go see a girl about a party.
~+
'Father is not going to be pleased,' Draco thought gleefully. 'That bastard.'
+~
Just as he said he would be, Draco was there on time. He was dressed what Hermione could only guess to be casual clothing to a Malfoy. Poor dears wouldn't know casual if it hit them on the buttucks and flew around in front of their face with a neon sign saying 'HEY! I'm Casual!'.
Hermione just shook her head, walking up to him. "Draco, that's Armani you're wearing."
"Very observant, Hermione. To what do I owe this moment of the obvious?" Draco replied sarcastically.
"Armani isn't exactly considered casual clothing in the Muggle world," she eyed him over. "I thought that /you/ would be the smart one in your family."
"You caught me, I'm a woolhead."
Hermione almost gagged on the name. She'd read it in a book(s) once. She loved the Wheel of Time chronicles. "You read Robert Jordan?"
Draco's eyes gleamed mischeviously as he started to remove his coat to reviel a simple black t-shirt. "Why, yes, I do. It /is/ about magic. I also read other things. I'm not daft."
"I know you aren't stupid," Hermione retorted, blushing from slight anger.
"Do you?" Draco arched a perfect silvery eyebrow. He'd now stripped (a/n: yes. It sounds naughty, doesn't it. But no! not now.) and into normal, everyday clothing.
Hermione blinked slightly as she realized the transformation. "What? You came here dressed up and now. this." She motioned to him.
"I told my father I was going on a date at a nice resturaunt with a rich, pureblooded witch," he replied causally, as if it was nothing lying to his father. a Death Eater.
Sighing iritably, Hermione gave up on waiting for him and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the closest dance club she could find.
"Dance," Hermione said, smile inching across her face.
"Excuse me?" Draco said, again arching an eyebrow at her, as if questioning her sanity.
"Like this." Hermione let the music of the techno and trance blaring in the club to overcome her and allow her to forget everything. All that really mattered was to dance, have fun and the music.
'Oh god.' Draco thought to himself. 'What have I gotten into?'
