Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling

Love Sex and a Bottle of Vodka

Chapter Eleven

Draco finally stumbled into his room and found Hermione reading by the fireplace. It was such a typical Hermione image that Draco couldn't help smiling slightly as he watched her for a while. She was so different from Pansy; sure they were similar in some obscure ways like their eating habits maybe, but Hermione was sweet and pure and smart. He couldn't believe he could have possibly lost that all. She was everything he was not and that's why he wanted her so bad.

"Hermione?" he ventured. He held his breath as finally, Hermione looked up.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Her voice wasn't even bitter or angry; it just sounded like it used to, back when he was still Malfoy and she was still a mudblood. Before this summer. She sounded weary, as though she knew that talking to him would only end in insults, like it used to.

Somehow, that hurt a lot more than when she had yelled at him. It hurt way more than when he felt as though he was forced to tell her that they had to end what they had, whatever it was. It hurt that she seemed to have completely forgotten what had happened, as though the last three months were suddenly erased and the most important summer of Draco's life was obviously not the most important in Hermione's.

"Nothing," Draco finally said. "Nothing, sorry I bothered you." He walked away, head and shoulders down, in a complete picture of misery, very unlike Draco. Hermione couldn't help watching him disappear through the door and feeling a little bit sorry for him. No, more than that. But she felt more sorry for herself. Although she knew it was incredibly immature to be wallowing in self-pity, that's exactly what she was doing right now.

She looked down at what she was reading, The Stranger. It wasn't exactly the best book to make her smile.

"You're a smart one, Meursault. Don't love and don't hurt." Hermione thought about it for a minute then threw the book across the room.

"God, I love you Draco," she whispered. "I never stopped."

From the other side of the door, Draco was laying on his bed, staring gloomily at the ceiling. He heard Hermione throwing something and pulled the covers over his head. His heart felt heavy and he felt vulnerable, as though open to anyone to attack him. He sighed and succumbed to sleep.

Draco had skipped dinner to stand outside one of Hogwart's many balconies. This particular one overlooked the lake, which looked much too serene. The whole night seemed surreal and there were two moons that night, one in the sky and one cradled in the watery folds of the lake.

He sat on the balcony railing, legs propped in front of him. He toyed with the cigarette in his hand. He wasn't an idiot and he knew that smoking was bad for him. Finally Draco just let them fall one by one all the way down to the ground until the pack was empty. Then he let go of the empty pack too. He tried to listen for when they hit the ground but couldn't hear.

"So here you are, Draco." Draco already knew who it was without turning his head to the doorway.

"Hello Pansy," he said casually, although now he was wishing maybe he should have kept one of those cigarettes.

"You made me look around for you," she said, with a pout on her face. It went to waste, however, the "endearing" look that she had obviously practiced in front of a mirror for Draco merely kept his head tilted up at the moon. Pansy pulled out a cigarette herself and lit the end with her wand. As she held one in her mouth, she lit another one and handed it over to Draco. He took a long drag and blew a stream of smoke above his head.

"Jesus Pansy, what do you want." He finally said, a statement, not a question. Pansy was quiet for a while then spoke.

"Do you really hate me that much," she finally said. "Do you think I'm a slutty bitch like everyone else? That I only care about what I look like and how many guys I can sleep with?" Pansy was wishing so hard that Draco would say no, of course not, how could she say that. Then get off that railing and walk over to her and hold her shoulders in his large hands and kiss her like he used to. Now that she thought about it, even his kisses were as cold and unfeeling as his steely eyes were right now.

"I don't think Pansy," said Draco. "I know." Pansy shut her eyes tightly as tears started to make their way down her face.

"Why won't you just marry me when we're twenty-one, like we're supposed to?" She looked at him pathetically. "I won't care if it's a lie, just let me be with you, please?" Draco still didn't turn to face her. Pansy was so frustrated she was close to just pushing Draco off the railing.

"You know I really love you Draco, it's not about status and money when it's me," said Pansy. "You'll do better with me than any other money grabbing whore that pretends to love you." Pansy leaned against the railing and looked at the lake. She and Draco had gone swimming in the night there a couple years ago; she still enjoyed the memory. She thought it really was love on his part as well.

"You can learn to love, at least to live with, please, I promise whatever you want me to be I'll be that person." Still Draco didn't speak.

"God, please Draco, say something," Pansy cried. She was crying openly now, no use in trying to hide it. Draco took a deep drag and blew a stream of smoke right into Pansy's face.

"Throw this away on your way out." Draco crushed the tip of the cigarette with his fingers, burning the skin. He tossed the cigarette butt at Pansy's feet. Pansy sunk to her knees and sobbed. Draco rolled his eyes. He hated it when she flew into hysterics. Finally, she collected herself and walked out, head held high. In their world, you had to leave with dignity although what little Pansy had she had lost with her crying fit.

Draco sighed with what felt like the most happiness he had felt that week although it was a small amount. With all this shittiness going around, he was starting to appreciate the little things more, like silence for one thing.

Now who would be crazy enough to go wading into the lake at this hour? If Draco focused his eyes just enough he would be able to see who the person was easily, even though he was quite far off the ground and it was dark. But he didn't want to. He didn't even want to think about that person right now. He didn't want to know that the person was a girl and that she had brown hair that used to be quite bushy. Or that she was a hard worker and always determined to win. Or that they had brutally stomped all over each other's hearts.

This whole thing, this fight, was ridiculous and Draco knew that. But right now, he decided to not know who that person was down there in the lake. He decided that he didn't quite want to think about jumping off the railing and landing on the ground and running, even with two broken legs, to her and grabbing her and holding her so tight and never letting go. He wanted to forget about all of this and he just silently watched as the person down by the lake grew anonymous, just another figure, and watched her hold up her robes and splash around in the lake, in the moonlight.

Hermione braced herself against the cold as she stepped into the water. She enjoyed the refreshing lap of the water against her ankles. This was nice. She didn't need any guys to tie her down and try to control her anyway. She was fine on her own.

Hermione tilted her head to the sky, feeling the soft light of the moon on her face. Despite the extreme sereneness of the setting, Hermione still couldn't relax. She started remembering the last time she had come to the lake at night. When she had seen Draco. She didn't want to think about him right now.

Hermione bit her lip and looked away and back up to the castle. Her eyes roamed Hogwarts until she saw him. Sitting up there on the railing of one of the many balconies. Was he looking at her? She couldn't tell in this light. Finally she sighed and turned back to the water and waded into her knees. When she looked back, she saw that Draco was gone. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him. And she wanted him back.