Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters.
Summary: Hermione's plan is working...

A/N: This chapter has now been beta read by the lovely chanteur dombre.

"You told them what?" Hermione was glaring at Mitchell Bulstrode. The strawberry daiquiri she'd been drinking was now all over her hands, the table and her lap.

He took a puff on a cigar, "You heard me Granger."

"But...but...why?" She attempted to run her fingers through her hair, but naturally they got caught-both in her curls and from the sticky mess of the fruity beverage she'd spilled.

He proceeded to take a dainty sip from his daiquiri (the odd juxtaposition of cigar and girlie drink would have caught Hermione's attention if she wasn't so flabbergasted over what he was telling her). "Draco was being phenomenally bitchy, even for him. Kept going on about how Tribledick..."

"Triblehorn," Hermione corrected.

"Right. How...Triblehorny...was acting all gallant to get in your knickers. So I simply told him it was as they say a 'moot point' since that Triblefucker had already bonked you," he finished with a grin.

Hermione put her head in her hands, stifling what would have been a shrill, perhaps glass-shattering scream. Unfortunately, her more than usual alcohol consumption, along with her still sticky fingers, did not make the most prudent combination. When she went to lift her head and remove her hands abruptly, the hair stuck and the aforementioned shrill, so high-pitched-the-canines-could-hear-it scream pierced through the pub. "Oh, fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" Tears were in her eyes and hair was still solidly glued to her now outstretched hands.

Mitchell nearly fell out of his chair laughing at the sight. "Merlin, Granger. If you start saying 'Bubble, bubble toil and trouble' I'll piss myself."

At that moment Ginny Weasley arrived with Pansy Parkinson. The two were co-workers at the Ministry of Magic and had developed, if not a close friendship, a tolerance for each other. Hermione and Pansy also managed to be friends of convenience, primarily for Mitchell's sake, since he had become one of Hermione's closest confidants since their school days and because Pansy, Mitchell's former best friend at Hogwarts was now, literally, his girlfriend.

Hermione was relieved to see the other two women. Until Ginny spoke, "So, Harry told me Alex shagged you rotten."

"He did no such thing!" She looked accusingly at Mitchell, "See what you started?"

Mitchell replied defensively, "You wanted to get Malfoy to notice you have boobies, stop complaining."

"And your devious little ploy is working," added Pansy. "I never thought I'd say this Granger, but I'm proud of you. You've got poor Drakey-Poo so tied up in knots I almost feel bad for him." She giggled. "But not quite."

"You're so evil." Mitchell nuzzled Pansy's neck.

"Ahem." Hermione very obviously cleared her throat. "While the idea was to get Malfoy's attention, perhaps get him a tad jealous, it didn't include telling him I shagged another wizard!"

"Pish, posh! That's just a minor detail," said Pansy. "The important thing is the plan is working."

"It's true," said Ginny. "Harry told me Malfoy's been more of a prat than usual. If that's possible."

"But I just didn't expect it to go so far. And what about Alex? He agreed to go along with making Malfoy think we were seeing each other, not shagging. What if Malfoy does something...rash?"

Mitchell chuckled, "You do realize, Granger, that Triblehorny actually does fancy you?"

"No he doesn't!"

"Have it your way," he said. "It matters not. Malfoy has taken the bait and now you have to reel him in."

"Merlin," she breathed deeply, "I feel so...dirty."

"Yes, actually Granger," Pansy leaned toward Hermione and plucked a strawberry from her still dishevelled hair. "That's because you're a bloody mess."