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Love, Sex and a Bottle of Vodka

Chapter Twelve

Hermione walked out of her dorm for what seemed like the first time in many days. She had been holed up in her room, even ignoring the protests of Ginny. She needed to get her mind off of Draco and piece her own life back together and that was precisely what she was doing.

She would wake up in the morning around six when the dining hall first opened to have a cup of coffee or tea and a warm, filling breakfast. It had been awhile since she herself was in charge of her eating habits, with Draco now out of the picture, and Hermione was quite pleased at her responsibility. She hadn't let herself fall into the same cycle of picking at food and counting calories. She took it as a sign that she was a stronger person now and had no need for people like Draco tying her down. Or so she told herself.

Afterwards she would head back to her dorm to study and come out only for classes. She'd take lunches and dinners back to her room, to avoid Ginny, Harry, and Ron. Then, very late, around midnight, she would stretch and pad down to the private Head Girl bathroom and take a luxurious bath with lavender, chamomile, and rose scented soaps. Finally, she would slip into her silky covers and fall asleep, pleased. She had become a girl of simple pleasures, finding joy in small things since larger things, more specifically a certain person, had let her down.

But finally, Hermione was leaving the dorm for dinner. She had forgotten to bring something up earlier, before the herds of students filled the hall. Hermione chastised herself although deep down she really knew that she had purposefully forgotten to take dinner to her room. Quite honestly, she was getting lonely. As much of a bookworm as she was, Hermione still had friends and missed them. She refused to let that…that Slytherin turn her into a hermit.

So purposefully and confidently, Hermione walked into the dining hall, her eyes gazing expertly, sorting through the crowd. She finally caught the sight of Ginny's coppery hair, mingling with Harry's shaggy black hair. Across from them sat a disgruntled Ron; obviously he had become the butt of yet another joke. Dean and Parvati seemed to be joining them and now seemed like a good as time as any to join the crowd also.

Ron dropped his fork when he saw Hermione and it made a loud clatter that was quickly consumed by other noises in the dining hall. Ginny, more composed, leapt up and pushed Harry to make room for Hermione. Looking a partly miffed and partly happy to see Hermione, Harry obliged.

"And we thought you died in that damn dorm room of yours," Ron declared. "How nice is it that you spend every waking hour in there?"

"I just had work to do," Hermione sniffed.

"We've barely seen you, Hermione. In fact, the last time we've seen you was at the train station. You're always rushing to class and it's not like we're even in a lot of classes with you," Harry said, seriously. Of course, he was always serious with his solemn eyes. They used to be bright and animated but over the years, they had dimmed and matured with things that people should never have to see.

"Well, if either of you actually studied then maybe we could have shared some classes," Hermione said, grinning. Harry smiled back, the expression looking a little foreign on his face.

"Yeah right, and become a big bookwork nerd like you?" asked Ron. Ginny rolled her eyes and looked at Hermione, coppery eyebrows raised in an annoyed yet mischievous expression that Hermione would have felt dumb trying to copy in front of a bathroom mirror.

"Ron's just annoyed that the love of his life decided that books were sexier than him."

"Gin!" The tips of Ron's ears turned scarlet.

"Oh grow up, Ron. It was a joke." Hermione listened to her friends banter in their familiar way and soaked up the atmosphere with a smile. She felt as though she was being watched, however, so she craned her head slightly to the right and saw herself face to face with Dean.

"Hi Dean," she said, pleasantly. She looked down and her eyes snagged on a gleam of silver at his wrist.

"That's cool, what is it?" Hermione didn't venture to say "cute" in case it offended his masculinity but it really was cute. It was a silver I.D. bracelet that encircled his wrist with the initials P.P. and a small ruby on the nameplate.

"Parvati?" The other girl seemed to smile shyly, which was a rarity for the often snippy, sharp-tongued girl. Parvati leaned in close so only Hermione could hear.

"I asked him out you know, in July when we ran into each other at Diagon Alley. Well, I mean, it was just for ice cream then because oh it was so nice to see a familiar face that wasn't Padma's. She is driving me insane. If you see her, don't talk to her." It wasn't really a secret to anyone that despite being twins, Parvati and Padma did not get along.

"So anyway, I just wanted out of the house, away from Padma. Such a scum bitch," she hissed. Hermione waited patiently. "But one date led to another and we just spent the rest of summer together." Hermione bit her lip.

"Right. Well, that's romantic," said Hermione. "Basically you're going out with Dean because you hated you sister."

"Yeah," Parvati sighed and looked at Dean with a look in her eyes that Hermione would only describe as…smoldering. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're really something." But Parvati didn't hear. "I'm going to go get more food." Hermione excused herself and left but heard footsteps behind her. Figuring it'd be Ginny, Hermione turned around, saying, "If somebody doesn't do anything about Parvati, I am going to scream."

"I know, she can be a pain in the ass," said Dean. Hermione made a physical effort to make sure her jaw didn't drop open.

"Right. Sorry. You didn't just hear that." She leaned against the wall and groaned. Dean chuckled.

"No, I don't mind. We actually aren't really going out. She just likes to say that we are. We just met a couple of times for snacks and maybe a lunch but that's it. She gave this to me on the train over here and I figured it'd be rude not to wear it…" His voice trailed off and his eyes held a strange expression. Hermione couldn't quite interpret it. Was that…hope? Hope? Hope for what?

"Right…but that's not very nice, Dean," she chastised. "You shouldn't lead her on."

"I've tried telling her, believe me," he said, pushing his thick brown hair away from his face. Hermione tried not to notice that he had grown much taller over summer and was wearing excellent jeans underneath his robes.

"I guess I'm sorry then," she said, offering a wry grin.

"Nah, I guess it's just tough because there's someone that I like." Hermione's ears perked up. Although Ginny was the avid gossiper between the two, Hermione wouldn't deny that she enjoyed other people's secrets as well.

"Well then how are you going to get with that person if you're wearing a bracelet with Parvati's initials on it?" she said. Dean smiled crookedly and again Hermione was trying to tell herself that she wasn't dangerously close to flirting with him.

"I guess I'm just hoping that she knows," he said. "But it doesn't matter. She won't go for me."

"Where's that predictable male ego?" she joked. But the resigned look on Dean's face remained. Hermione wasn't very good at words of comfort to people that she wasn't particularly close to. Instead, she picked up a muffin.

"Do you want one? On me okay?" Although Dean didn't answer, Hermione picked up another muffin and tossed it at Dean.

"Come on; let's go back before Ginny rips Parvati's head off." That perked a grin from Dean.

"I wish she would," he said, as they walked through the throngs of students. When Hermione caught sight of Parvati animatedly chatting, probably saying nasty things about her "ex-best friend and slut wench Lavender" and Ginny rolling her eyes, she muttered, "me too."

Draco forced himself awake and ran a hand through his messy, flaxen hair. He pulled on yesterday's Oxford shirt and a gray sweater vest over it. He was so disoriented that he even pulled on the gray flannel pants that his mom made him get. He pulled the robe off of the floor and put it on, trying to smooth the wrinkles as he pulled his books together.

He tore through the halls, checking his watch and swearing periodically. He pulled himself into McGonagall's class just thirty seconds late and grabbed an empty seat by the door. When he entered, the girls started to titter and point. More than one threw a sultry look in his direction, all of which Draco ignored.

"Aw look at him!" a Slytherin squealed to her friend. "He looks so sweet with his hair all messy."

"He probably did it on purpose," a disgruntled, male classmate said. "He probably filed his fingernails too." Despite his words, the jealous friend made note to buy gray pants like Draco's next time his mom forced him to go shopping.

Draco was used to the hushed talking around him. He also knew that it was in equal parts fawning over him and hating him and he was used to it. He enjoyed the spiteful comments more. They amused him whereas the compliments nauseated him. When McGonagall glared at him, Draco suddenly remembered the half finished assignment still sitting up in his room.

When her back was turned, Pansy, who Draco had unwittingly sat down right next to, palmed him the finished assignment which Draco turned in. McGonagall turned to Pansy.

"Ms. Parkinson? Where is your assignment?"

"I forgot to do it," she said, looking defiantly at the professor just like how she should. Slytherins were never ashamed of doing something wrong. Had she acted so, it would have been more of a give-away that she was covering for Draco. Draco scowled. The last thing he needed was to be indebt to Pansy.

"Wait a minute, Professor McGonagall?" She turned to Draco with an irritated expression that only said, "Can't you see I'm busy terrorizing a student?"

"I turned in Pansy's assignment. She's covering for me." McGonagall's eyebrows rose to her hairline. Something about Draco convinced her that he was telling the truth. Honestly, would Draco Malfoy ever take the blame for anyone? Either the boy has gone mad or he's finally cultivating a conscience, about goddamn time too.

"Okay then, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points from Slytherin for not doing the assignment, another ten for turning in Pansy's." She turned on Pansy. "And ten more for trying to cover for Mr. Malfoy's less than admirable actions." Draco almost grinned. Every year McGonagall seemed to turn more into a female version of Snape and it was amusing.

When the class ended, Draco ignored the blatant signals that Pansy was sending him and left the room. He would pay for that later but for now, he honestly couldn't deal with Pansy until he got at least a good cup of coffee.

Draco did pay for it, during dinner. He sat down at a quiet table. He was sick of being surrounded by friends like Crabbe and Goyle who, between the two, had a vocabulary that consisted of fifteen words. He was sick of simpering girls who held onto his words and arms and hopeful guys who stuck to him like moths to a light, thinking maybe they would get lucky if they stuck to Draco.

For awhile, he was alone. He felt removed from the hectic dining hall and was calm. That is, until Pansy set her dinner tray across from him and sat down.

"Why didn't you just take my homework? It would have had your handwriting on it if you hadn't confessed. You didn't seriously think I was stupid enough to hand in two rolls of parchment with my handwriting and your name, did you?"

"I didn't take it because I didn't want to be in debt to you. I don't want anything to do with you," Draco said, staring at his food. He imagined the knife glimmering in the light, being jammed into his throat.

"Why not, Draco? You can't fight what's going to happen."

"No, you're wrong. I might not be able to make a difference but I'll fucking fight every step of the way, right down the wedding isle."

"Why are you doing this, Draco? We were okay, once."

"I can't…we can't be anything Pansy, not while you keep putting me on this pedestal as some accessory to show off to your friends. And I'm not interested. I can't love you because I have none to give." Draco knew all of this, even before he fell for Hermione.

Pansy knew that this was her cue to step out of Draco's life for awhile. He had to remember how they used to be. How they used to fall asleep together in one of their parents' silken beds or how they'd spend vacations together, may it be surfing in Hawaii or shopping in Europe. She'd wait and he'll eventually come back, if not for those things then for the simple fact that they will get married. Their parents had more control over their lives than anyone else. Once they decide something, it may as well be set in stone.

"Goodbye Draco." Pansy walked away with the knowledge that she'd be walking back in a few months' time. Draco watched her leave and swore a vow that if he was to be forced down that isle next to Pansy, he would do whatever it takes, sever his tongue, kill his parents, anything to make sure that he would not end up at Pansy's husband. The thought left an acrid, metallic taste in his mouth that no amount of water could wash away.