Hermione supposed that things could be much worse. After all, she had an attentive and very attractive date, two of her best friends, and a mug of butterbeer, all within a five-foot radius. Then again, if she had simply not woken up this morning, she wouldn't be burning with embarrassment while Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley snogged enthusiastically and Draco Malfoy kept glancing over at her hopefully.

"So, um, Draco," she began. He looked even more hopeful. It was a really maddeningly adorable look on him. "I, um, what's, er, your favorite class?" Ooh, smooth, Hermione. Lovely and coherent.

Draco looked rather disappointed. "That isn't some sort of lead-in to telling me you want to shag me senseless, is it?"

And Hermione thought she couldn't get any redder.

Draco Too-Bloody-Blunt-For-His-Own-Good Malfoy sighed. "I didn't think so. I really like Arithmancy, but I find Potions fascinating too. Might consider a career in Potions, actually."

Potions, potions, beautiful beautiful change of subject! Hermione would forever worship that noble art. "But so many potions have been replaced by charms or spells nowadays, it hardly seems worth it to plan one's life around an already disintegrating subject."

Draco smirked. "They'll never replace potions. After all, most witches and wizards consider potions more trustworthy than wandwork."

"Ah, but that seems very likely to change in the near future, don't you think? I'm not saying that potions will become unnecessary, but just consider the advantages of replacing a potion with a spell..."

They actually had an interesting conversation about the relevancy of Potions to the modern wizarding world that Hermione thoroughly enjoyed. She loved Harry and Ron, she really did, but their idea of an intelligent conversation never, ever involved anything but Quidditch. It got on a girl's nerves after a while. Draco, on the other hand, was quite fluent in Hermione-speak, as Ron called it. All in all, Hermione was having a lovely day.

That is, until Harry and Ginny decided to ditch the whole double-date idea and go somewhere private to, um, 'chat.' Hermione really, really had no desire whatsoever to know what they were doing. But Harry and Ginny would pay dearly for leaving poor, defenseless Hermione alone with the evil, incredibly hot Slytherin. And a whole host of uncomfortable silences.

"Um," Hermione said.

"Yes. Well," Hermione said.

"Er," Hermione said.

"Oh, bloody hell," Draco said, and leaned in to kiss her.

By the time the Harry and Ginny found them again, Draco and Hermione were considerably more rumpled.

"Oh, I see you've gotten over that awkward conversational rut," said Ginny. Harry grinned and poked Draco.

"Ouch," Draco told him irritably. "Do not poke me again, or suffer the Wrath of the Malfoys."

"Be nice, Draco," Hermione said mildly. "I think poking people is a Weasley thing. It happens, and you can't avoid it."

Harry looked vaguely puzzled. "But I'm not a Weasley."

"Not yet, anyway," Ginny murmured, shooting Hermione a wink.

The Boy Who Lived To Be Incredibly Oblivious said "Huh?"

"Never mind, Harry," sighed Hermione. "Come on, everybody. All dates are now officially over."

"No good-bye kiss?" Draco pouted.

"Prat," Hermione said.

"But a very kissable prat," he pointed out.

"Oh, all right."

Hermione supposed that things could be much worse.

A/N: I think this fic's pretty much finished. I mean, what else is there to write? And this seems as good a place as any to end. So...adios y'all, and remember that Leather and Libraries is the only way to ship!