Disclaimer: I own nothing…….for I am a hobo and hobos technically own nothing :)…well, maybe I own the plot…
Chapter 1: Dinner And A Show
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The only reason Hermione Granger and I ever finally stopped hating each other is because she is a hopeless lightweight when it comes to drinking.
Last January, Potter invited me to dinner and a show with his Gryffindor school chums, as he and I have become friends of sorts. After the war was over and my name was cleared but people were still wary of me. So, Potter and I became friends to ease tensions in the wizarding world, making things go back to semi-normal again.
On the night of the get-together, the rather large group of us met at an Italian restaurant. Everyone was dressed nicely, except for one. No, not Weasley, for once he had the sense to buy his clothes himself. It was Granger. I can remember what she looked like so clearly. She had tied her hair back in a simple ponytail, which looked nice, but the rest of her was frightening. A large poofy unflattering black jacket covered what could only be known as the worst green jumper known to humanity. The only interesting thing about it was the fact it was see-through, but Granger had to ruin that quirk by wearing a shirt under the fuzzy, repulsive-coloured jumper. Her trousers were ill fitted and could have only been from some terrible cheap Muggle clothes shop. Her shoes looked like riding boots, and probably were riding boots for all I knew. That would have explained the strange brown stain on one of the boots. Overall, she looked awful. There was no other way to put it. She could have made Ray Charles flinch.
And, luck of all lucks, I was placed across the table from her. During the meal, I socialized with the others around me and I noticed something miraculous, Granger wasn't talking. She was simply eating and staring at her plate, as if she were scared of something. It fascinated me. Granger was never afraid of anything. And she never drank. She must have had only two glasses of red wine and she was beginning to slip under the table. At that point I leaned across the table and asked if she was feeling all right. And she replied in a very slurred voice,
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"
She was intoxicating while intoxicated.
I sat there watching her drink almost an entire bottle before the younger Weasley leant over and removed her wine glass from her. When we were leaving, I watched her as she slowly got up and gained her balance while putting on her jacket and trying to appear normal. Once we got out of the restaurant and started walking towards the theatre, I found myself walking with the badly dressed drunk. I was going to make a witty opening comment but, it didn't quite turn out that way.
"You're drunk."
"No I'm not!" she shouted at me.
"If you're not drunk, then walk in a straight line." She tried and did walk in a straight line for two or three steps, and then she fell over. But, she never hit ground as I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I caught her and gently pushed her back to standing position. Afterwards, she giggled and whispered a drunken thanks into my ear.
"Do you hate me?" she suddenly asked me with a look of innocence in her eyes.
"No."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Why?" At that exact moment, I saw Granger in a different light. Not just because of the street lamp we were walking past, but because a new side of her was showing through. The Granger I knew was rude and always had a harsh look about her.
"Because Im not the same person. And neither are you." I have no idea why I said that, but I did. She only giggled at my deep point and then began asking what pantomime were we seeing and where it was. Even though it was a seemingly dull conversation, she still had my attention. She was hysterical when drunk, her ankle giving way occasionally and making very un-Hermione comments such as 'I like your hair. It reminds me of butter!'.
I found myself finding and liking her little hand movements and her way of walking. She walked like she had somewhere to go, but she didn't know exactly where she was going. And a bonus of her walk was I could see her body through her horrendous ensemble. She had what could only be described as the hourglass shaped body, which is the best kind to have in my opinion. But I am biased, as I have found in the past that big breasts and round bums are much more of a turn on compared to small breasts and non existent bums.
The fates must have stacked the cards so I was with Granger the whole night because I ended up sitting beside her at the theatre. When we had sat down, she seemed to have more of her wits about her, but not all of them just yet.
"Do you like pantos?" she asked me as she took off her marshmallow of a jacket and leaned back into her falling apart seat.
"Of course, what sane person wouldn't like them?" Granger slightly blushed at my comment.
"Don't tell me you don't like pantos! Get out of here, you panto hater!" I said playfully.
"I don't hate pantos! I just haven't been to many," she explained shyly.
"You were deprived as a child."
"No, my parents just thought it would be better for me to see real plays instead of pantos."
"I can't believe your parents did that, its just insane." Granger shrugged. Its amazing how she possesses a vast vocabulary and she cant think of things to say sometimes. The panto soon began and it was your classic amateur panto, bad songs and all. The story of sleeping beauty was interesting, with strange random scenes at the seaside, but I found I watched Granger more than I watched the panto. The way she laughed entranced me. She occasionally fiddled with the hem of that hideous jumper in the most adorable way possible. She was driving mad with her quirks, and she didn't even know it.
When the last bad songs about pickled onions were sung, we trudged slowly outside with the rest of the audience and said our goodbyes before retiring to our separate homes and flats for the remainder of the evening. I bid farewell to Granger last, to make it slightly more personal.
"Goodbye," I said to the petite brunette standing before me.
"Bye," she replied. She opened her arms to be for an awkward hug, which I accepted. She felt very small in my arms and I almost didn't let go. Almost.
"See you around, Draco." And then, she apparated away. And then I realised she used my first name and I fancied her. This was going to be interesting.
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Hey there! I hope you liked the first chapter of my new story! If you did, please write a review! If you didn't like it and thought it was rubbish, please write me a review! If you thought it was ok, please write me a review! You get the general idea. Anyway, Im going to update this as often as possible but I do have my GCSEs and lots of coursework this year, so bare with me.Hugglesto anyone who can tell me where''She could have made Ray Charles flinch.'is from:D