All I need to get by

Chapter Eight: Sleeping with my eyes open

Here we go again another humpem dumpem situation
Here we go again another humpem dumpem situation
Here we go again, here we go again
Now I know what you're like and I don't think I like it.

Wheatus 'Hump'em'N'Dump'em' chorus

The door of Draco Malfoy's Chelsea flat was painted black, the paint peeling away slightly at the bottom where he had kicked it too many times. The railing were black as well, steep steps leading down to the basement flat where Blaise abini occassionally lived when his landlord evicted him. The doormat was seagrass, and the boot scraper immaculately clean. The bronze doorknob gleamed in the Saturday morning light as dawn crept over the river Thames. Traffic reverberated gently from the main street, and the long necked dahlias swayed in the breeze throughout the small, neat gardens.

Inside the hall was gloomy, the open plan kitchen blinds were closed as they had been for three days. The smell of alcohol lay heavy in the air, billowing up the stairs. A red robe was flung haphazardly over the banisters. A pair of black leather shoes were lying by the door, one two steps further on as if the owner had hopped on from his apparation point.

His bedroom door was open, light sulking in through bamboo blinds. Forest green walls and a dark wood wardrobe which spanned an entire wall. A panelled door leading through to the white, gleaming ensuite. A pair of dragonskin boots with the bottom two laces left done up lay abandoned just inside the doorway. There was a crisp white shirt missing several buttons over the plush cream chair. The four poster's cream curtains were half pulled. A black shirt had landed on top of the mantelpiece.

The black jodphurs that were Unspeakable regulation uniform were on the floor, a caramel coloured bra lying next to them. The matching knickers were on the bedpost; a pair of red silk boxers on the opposite post caught the dull gleam on sunlight eagerly. The trousers that had been worn over the top of them were half draped over the bed.

Hermione Granger awoke out of a distinctly purple dream slowly. Light peered in through her smudged eyelids, and lighted on the dark mascara circles underneath her eyes. She licked her red, swollen lips a little, and turned over. Still her eyes did not open. She wrinkled her nose briefly, and threw an arm above her head to rest on the soft pillow. Something untoward twitched in the corner of her brain, as she stroked the pillow carefully, not quite awake. She never had soft pillows – hard pillows were better for her posture. Her brain highlighted the issue again. And again.

Sucking her breath in briefly, and sniffing inelegantly she reached out a hand for her bedside table, and slammed down on empty air. Her brain twitched ferverantly again. Her magical alarm clock had vanished. Thinking about that briefly, the neurons passed along the message that the hand had not met the bedside table either. Her brain blinked briefly, and gave the order to open the eyes.

The brown eyes opened blurrily without seeing much before she blinked, and her vision returned to normal.

Drace Malfoy's head was lying on the pillow next to hers, the covers pulled up around his chin as he snuggled into the bed. His hair was splayed over the pillow, and a fluffy knot was twisting itself in above his right ear. There was drool on his pillow, and his breathing was perfectly undetectable. His eyes were startlingly grey, slightly unfocused, but open enough to make his bedmate start, and then relax slightly.

Draco Malfoy slept with his eyes open. It had been enough to frighten at least four Hogwarts students into running out of his bed before he woke up; enough to keep his teachers off his back in lectures; enough to make sure that nobody tried to stab him in his sleep. A knack, a learning curve, a reprecussion of his days at war with Severus Snape, and of living in Malfoy Manor.

Hermione rolled onto her back, and watched the cream curtains billow in the air slightly. A car horn sounded it's note somewhere far off, and she permitted a small smile to grace her lips.

Draco Malfoy woke up hurridly as he felt the bed next to him shift too much. Turning his head towards the inside of the bed he noticed the naked back sitting up on the edge of the large bed.

'Do you have to be at work today?' he asked suddenly, and Hermione turned towards him, the small smile still on her face.

'They'll think I'm sleeping off a hangover,' she answered.

'Then why are you getting up?' he stretched languidly and raised an eyebrow at her.

'To save my dignity?' she suggested teasingly, 'Before you throw me out.'

'Why would I throw you out?' he asked, so startled he sat upright.

'Draco, what we had last night was clearly the result of drink.'

'Was it?' he asked seriously, 'How much did you have?'

'I'm not sure,' she admitted, doing the clasp of her bra up.

'I didn't even get halfway through a firewhisky,' he fibbed. 'Can you remember anything?'

'I remember asking you if you were gay,' she at least had the grace to blush, he noticed.

'Damaging my male pride,' he grinned, 'Now come back to bed.'

She paused, letting the knickers in her hand hang limply from her fingers. Draco Malfoy had the reputation of being a one night stand man. A Humpem'n'dumpem Harry had accurately described him as. He had been through almost the entire population of Hogwarts. Undoubtedly he was teasing her, waiting to humiliate her. She pulled the knickers on.

'No,' collecting her jodphurs and pulling them on, smoothing them down, 'I'd better not.'

'Why not?' Draco sounded shocked and hurt, but she didn't turn to look at him as she pulled the shirt on over her head, and laced the boots up neatly.

'Hump'em'N'Dump'em,' she answered securely, and walked out to the hallway.

Draco didn't think he'd ever moved so fast. He was out of bed and in front of her before she even made it to the top of the stairs. Hermione raised an eyebrow at his complete lack of dignity.

'I'm a one night stand?' he asked, vainly incredulous.

'I don't have time for a relationship right now.'

'Then we won't be a relationship!' he grasped, slightly desperately. His grey eyes looked searchingingl into her brown ones, and somewhere she felt her resolve crumble a little.

'What will we be?' she asked, 'Two humpers'n'dumpers stuck together?'

'No!' he almost shouted. 'Last night you said you loved me, did you lie?'

Hermione almost cursed the drinks she had consumed last night, and then felt tears rise up in her eyes. It was true, she did love him – or at least she thought she did. But his reputation scared her. What kind of girl wants to go out with a playboy, and one who had never hesitated having several chicks on the side at any time? And his schedule. She had seen it briefly last night, blu-tacked to the fridge. Colour coded regular hours gleaming victoriously. Every Unspeakable relationship with anyone other than another one of them or an auror had failed miserably. The timing was indistinct and planned for single men, not broody women.

'No,' she admitted finally, 'No I didn't lie.'

'Then why are you trying to leave?' he asked, his heart skipping a track as it whirled around.

TalkTalk-without-the-telephone-bit:

Paprika90:- funky name. Thanks for your lovely review.

Reginaterrae:- talk about enthusiasm. Thanks!

Midnight Angel:- Thanks so much! That was a really encouraging review. [10 minutes later - I was just reading over this when I realised I spelt your screen name Midnight Angle. Go me. ;-)]

Sweet jane:- :: squels too:: heeehee. You know, I hadn't even thought about the mornign after until you mentioned it. I was just kind of going to skip over it happily. And then I thought, 'I can't do that to sweet jane! I must write a morning after scene!'. This was the second attempt, the first one was too amusing. It didn't fit. I hope you like it, it's yours really.

MadAboutHarry:- Since you review like, every chapter I shall allow you to be critical ::sniffs::. Chapter seven was meant to be confusing, because basically they're completely tiddly. Sloshed, off their heads. So there's only the vaguest links between the conversation. It was modelled on how my mate X gets when she's had a little too much too drink – maybe it was a bit obscure. Draco isn't gay – he said somewhere 'Smith never was one for being a good boyfriend' and 'Why wouldn't you want to kiss hime?' and Hermione, in her drunken daze, picked that up, but not much else. Make your kids buy me new ones!

Aly Dragonchild:- Welcome, I don't think I've seen you before. Yeah, the typo demon of doom refuses to flush itself down the toilet. I do actually use Word, but unfortunately I have a German computer (clever I know) so everything I type is wrong, and it givs up and sulks. Possibly the fact that I'm a seriously bad speller doesn't help either! Hoorah! You say muchly! Congratulations! How can you hate romance? It wasn't even soppy ;-)Thanks for your review!

Erin:- Thanks very much!

Chamorro:- Ha! Finally someone who appreciates sadistic humour! ::hugs:: Thanks a lot.

Incase you missed the talktalk reference, there's a telephone company over here called talktalk and I was just watching one of their dodgy commercials. What kind of company talks itself talktalk? It's like calling a baking company EatEat, or a Chinese take-away ChowChow. Goodness, I crack myself up sometimes. The phrase 'humper'n'dumper' refers to people who have sex with their partners and then finish it, and was not meant to be offensive if you like that kind of thing.

Dundundun… Isn't Malfoy sweet? I got really tired of reading fictions where Granger begs Malfoy to keep her, so I was like, yay, let's make Malfoy cute and fluffy. And now what happens? Hmmmmmm.