I have known Granger for six years. She has always been nothing more than a stuck up, preppy little wanker that I have wanted to push down the stairs for the better part of my teenage life.

Never really acted on it though, seeing as I am the intellectual sort.

Posh!

I never thought I would see her drunk!

And yet there she was, her sleek brown hair (where did that come from?) dishelmed slightly. She looks me up and down with interest. I try not to laugh with excitement.

I get to see her make an ass out of herself

How totally ravishing!

Maybe this night isn't as hopeless as I thought.

Her grey pea coat is unbuttoned and I can see her outfit underneath. She has a red shirt and black short skirt on. How odd. I did not know she had those legs.

She readjusts her stance again, trying her best to keep steady.

"No, I'm not drunk, I'm just utterly disoriented!" She yells loudly, swaying and pointing.

"I can't believe how utterly exciting this is!" I mumble as I walk towards her and grab her by the arm and walk with her.

She does not seem surprised that her mortal enemy is walking with her down the street. But then again, she doesn't seem to notice a lot of things

Such as that I can see a better part of her cleavage, seeing as her red shirt was unbuttoned to her belly button. I can see everything, and it's really not a bad sight.

What?

I am a hot blooded male.

I think about just letting her walk around in public with a better part of her boobs hanging out. But the gentleman inside me (how I hate him) says something.

"You know Mudblood, your boobs are hanging out…." I say suavely.

She blinks and looks down. Alcohol really does seem to dull the girl down, because she just buttons it up like its nothing. Although I'm sure I think I distinctly heard her mutter 'Bloody rat bastard…"

This makes me smile.

And while alcohol seems to make her dull, it also makes her a little bit loose.

Who doesn't become loose on the damned stuff?

She stumbles and utters a tipsy little 'whoops!' her heels clanking on the cobblestone street. I hold her still, not because I want to help a damsel in distress, but because I want to observe some interesting behavior, and also have something to talk about back at school.

"OH NO!" She yelps next to me, stopping suddenly.

"What?"

"I can't believe tthus!"

"What Ganger?"

"He couldn't have..."

"Oh merlin…"

"Oh my gosh, whaat ami going to do now?" She starts to cry next to me.

Dammit, did I ever mention that I really have it when people whine?

Or when girls cry…

Well now would be the situation…

" God dammit Granger, what is wrong?" I snarl

" I l-l-l-lost my p-p-purse!" She sobs.

I blink, and stare at the mess in front of me. I finally realize something, something I was utterly blind to until now

That while I hate people…

I hate drunken people even more.

"Granger, it's on your shoulder…" I mutter and turn and walk ahead…

"Oh, silly me…" She says irritatingly. It takes a while before she realizes that I am not in fact right there with her, but a couple feet ahead of her.

I can hear her heels clanking on the cobblestone clumsily.

"Wait!"

"No…"

"Just wait please!"

I didn't answer.

It wasn't long before I didn't hear the clanking anymore. Or anything. No, the only thing I heard was a loud 'oh no' and some fumbling.

I turn around.

And I find Granger on her bum.

Her black left heel broke.

I walk over to her to help her up. Only as a gentleman should.

The interesting thing is, though hilarious, is that Grangers short skirt is hitched up pretty high, and I can see a better part of her thighs. Not to mention her black knickers.

"Nice pair of knickers you've got there Mudblood." I say smoothly as I offer her a hand to help her out.

She rubs her bottom, and absentmindedly answers my 'compliment' with a thank you.

Sober Hermione would kick my ass from here to Zimbabwe.

Lucky for me, the girl was three sheets to the wind.

"You know D-draco, I'm feeling a little bit..." She hiccupped, "a bit…"

" Out with it woman!" I snap.

" woozy…" She grips her stomach.

" Oh merlin no, you are not upchucking on my watch…"

She looks up with me with sad eyes, a pure look of discomfort on her face.

" I'm fleeling pretty damn woozy." She fans her face with her hand. She turns her head and looks to her left. " Oh a bar!" she limps over to the building, one shoe on, the other in hand.

She's a damned mad woman.

I decide to follow her into the building, seeing as I don't have anything to do.

As usual, the place consists of slutty drunk girls, and horny drunk guys.

I look towards the bar, immediately finding the brunette girl that has been accompanying me for the past couple hours.

She sits on an empty stool. I can see grown men's eyes all over her. She doesn't seem to notice as asks the bartender loudly for a couple shots of firewhiskey. I watch her quietly.

I may hate the girl, but I can't deny the fact that she is a total sex pot in that outfit. Short skirts and nice legs are just my par-tay. Too bad she doesn't have much of a personality. She has a nice face. Not absolutely stunning, but yea, I could do that. Her body is alright. It's just…

There I admit it…

I'm a leg man.

Everyone would think I'm a breast man… I'm not.

A man approaches her, in his thirties and pretty seedy looking. Like a repressed molester or something. He puts his hand on her thigh. She swats it away as she takes a shot of her firewhiskey. He seems a little mad. He does it again, but she gives him the hardest look she can ( which isnt much because of the glaze.) and tells him alone. He looks a little annoyed.

I just watch.

Gentleman interfere when a lady friend is being harassed.

But I really pity the guy.

Granger has a pretty mean slap.

I know from experience.

She sways a little in her stool, spilling her precious drink on her skirt a little.

I decide to interfere when he grabs her arm and tries to drag her off. She fights, as always. Though her coordination is way off.

" Excuse me sir, but why are you fondling my girlfriend?" I asked in an almost bored tone.

" Er… sorry mate…" He scampers off like a cockroach. Stupid wanker

" Yea, you better be… She's only seventeen."

I look down at the brunette in front of me.

" Thatman was so………. So…" She's angry.

Better run for cover.

"PERVY!"

"Yes Granger he was… But that's what you get for wearing something like that in a place like this…"

" What?" She blinks…

" You're clothes…"

" My clothes?" a little confused before she looks down at her ensemble

"Yes Mudblood you have clothes on. So do me and the Queen. Isn't that grand, both of you wear clothes. How does it feel to have something in common with royalty?"

She stares at me blankly, and her eyes glaze over again.

" I wanta 'nother drink…" She stumbles off

I follow.

" How many have you had?" I ask

" Ummmmmmmmmmmmm…." She attempts to think hard

I stare…

" Umm I think abouta….ten…" she counted on her fingers.

Ten?

Oh bloody hell….

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