AN:Important announcement: I am forced to change the update shedue!

University starts next Monday again and I have a hell of a timetable. I can already tell that I won't manage weekly updates with 3k+ words as I will be barely at home during the week.

That means, there will be a new chapter EVERY TWO WEEKS on FRIDAYs. I am sorry and I hope you understand.

Thank you for your awesome support! Every word means a lot to me!

And a lot of thanks to the awesome people who help me out with this story: Moonsong78 for information on studying law in UK and my awesome betas Nantai and Chocomieux! You are all lifesavers!

Hermione shifted from one foot to another impatiently, searching for somebody she knew in the crowd.

She had arrived at the party less than 15 minutes ago and was already cursing herself for agreeing to go. She hated parties, she hated huge crowds, she hated beer, she hated drunks and most of all, she hated huge drunk crowds stinking like beer. But no, she had let Ginny convince her to come to this stupid party, even though she could have spend the evening at home, discussing books and maybe sexting with the Prince just like they had the two previous evenings. Damn Ginny.

She took a sip from her cup, grimacing at the simply disgusting taste of the cheap red wine Ginny had poured for her before she had promptly disappeared.

"Granger." Malfoy suddenly appeared at her side, slurring slightly and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy." Hermione spotted a flash of red hair in the crowd, but it was a boy. He was too short to be Ron and what would he be doing at a college party anyway?

"Nobody wants to talk to you, huh?"

"Get lost," Hermione said and started pushing through the crowd, deciding that anything was better than spending her evening with a drunk Malfoy. He was already unbearable when sober: she didn't want to imagine how bad it would get when he was drunk.

Sure, she had seen him drunk a few times before, since they spend the majority of their academic career going to the same school, but it had been different.

The first time she had seen him drunk was a week after the terrorist attack on their school, the first day when the lessons were taken up again. He sat on the stairs outside the library and drank himself silently into a coma, refusing to talk to anyone who passed, which hadn't been many - the librarian, Madam Pince, Professor McGonagall and Hermione. Nobody else had bothered to go to the library on the first day and more importantly, nobody else had looked for him.

The second time was at the graduation party, where he had been surrounded by friends, but didn't drink too much, restraining himself. He had a weird, polite half-smile on his face and looked as if he was in pain the whole evening - not that Hermione was watching him.

The third time was their first week at university, where he looked so different from the graduation party, laughing freely and drinking anything in reach. That had been the time they had interacted the least, as Malfoy had done his best to ignore Hermione, which had caught her by surprise after his treatment of her in school. She had been relieved at first, but didn't let her guard down, which proved to be the right decision as he started teasing her not long after the third week into the first term.

The fourth time was at a party in their second year, when Ginny had finally convinced her to accompany her to one. Malfoy had a huge fight with his then girlfriend, Astoria Greengrass, who had ended up pouring her drink all over him as she broke up with him on the spot. "I am sure you are enjoying this," he had said bitterly when Hermione offered him a towel.

And now, the fifth time she was seeing him drunk, he was actively seeking her out and she hated it even more than all the previous instances combined .

When he grasped her wrist, Hermione turned around to face him. "What do you want?" she hissed, trying not to attract attention, as she yanked her arm free. Luckily, most people were either too drunk or well on their way, dancing, talking and making out and therefore didn't think twice about the two of them.

"I need to talk to you," Malfoy said, looking at his feet, his bangs falling over his eyes.

"As far as I am concerned we have nothing to talk about," Hermione ran her free hand through her hair. "So say what you have to say and go."

"I am sorry," Malfoy blurted out before she could leave and Hermione almost dropped her cup, barely catching herself in time.

"What?" She gaped at him.

"You heard me," Malfoy crossed his arms, not noticing, or maybe not caring that he spilled some of his beer on the floor, over his expensive looking leather shoes.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. It was quite unusual for Malfoy not to care about ruining his looks: be it his shoes, his hair, his clothes - anything, really. "Just how drunk are you?"

"I needed the courage to-" Malfoy started saying but stopped mid-sentence, his face turning a shade paler than usual and hastily pushed past her and towards the garden.

Hermione followed, not sure what else to do.

Malfoy was vomiting all over the flowerbed and Hermione wondered just whose house this was. It definitely didn't look like a place where students lived - not with such well kept flowers and all the posh furniture inside.

Malfoy coughed and vomited again and Hermione patted him on the back awkwardly. "You should go home," she said and he glared at her.

"Mind your own business, Granger," he said as he straightened up, swiping his mouth clean with his sleeve.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can barely stand, you roll your r and you've just vomited. You clearly had too much to drink."

"And why exactly do you care?" he hissed, his eyes full with hostility, his earlier apologetic tone forgotten.

"I don't," Hermione shrugged and left him to return inside, where she run into Jenny almost immediately.

"Where have you been?" Jenny asked. "I've been looking for you all over the place."

"Outside," Hermione drank from her cup, forcing down the wine. She really didn't feel like talking about the strange encounter she had with Malfoy.

"Come on," Jenny stirred her along, through the crowd. "I want to introduce you to someone."

Hermione tried to protest, saying that she had to find Ginny, but Jenny was not having any of it and pulled her through the house, and into a room where a group of people were dancing. Soon though she realised Jenny's goal wasn't the dancefloor, but a few men standing at the wall. Hermione realized with horror that she recognized one of them.

"No," she tried to protest but Jenny didn't listen and Hermione found herself standing in front of a man she had successfully avoided for four years.

"McLaggen," she said with a grimace and emptied her cup in one go. If the evening was going to progress like this, Hermione knew she wouldn't survive it if she stayed sober. Usually, she didn't drink much, but Malfoy's weird behaviour and now the sudden appearance of Cormac McfuckingLaggen called for desperate measures.
Jenny introduced her to her new boyfriend, Adrian Pucey, not noticing Hermione's discomfort in the slightest and nudging her towards his friends.

After a few necessary pleasantries, Hermione excused herself, holding up her cup in silent explanation and practically run back to the front of the house before Cormac managed to attempt a conversation.

Hermione pulled out her phone, typing a short message while she waited for the kitchen to empty a bit so she could get a refill. .

Persephone: I hate drunk people! I wish I was at home watching a movie and arguing with you about Nietzsche

She pocketed her phone again and poured some more wine into her cup, not willing to mix her beverages as long as long there was the wine. Combining different drinks always resulted in her having a headache in the morning, but Hermione feared she might reach a point where the need of alcohol would surpass its horrible side effects..

Not having any other choice, she then returned to the group-having promised Jenny that she would and smiled politely at one of the other men, whose name she had already forgotten and didn't care to inquire. Being friends with McLaggen was reason enough not to be interested in him just for the sake of avoiding her once-date, who was currently attempting to get her attention, grabbing the chance to start a conversation with her.

"So what are you up to these days?" he asked, leaning too casually against the wall, his eyes running up and down Hermione's body, surely undressing her in his mind.

"I study law," she said trying not to evidently cringe. "You?"

"I'm a business major," he said in a self-important manner and gave her his most brilliant smile. "But I'm sure you already knew that. I told you the last time we saw each other."

"Oh really?" Hermione drank from her cup, ignoring the jab about her avoiding of him, and turned, feigning interest to a story narrated by one of McLaggen's friends. His name was something with a C. Caleb, Cassius, Cornelius? Again, she didn't know and didn't particularly care, even though this one wasn't too bad to look at, with his dark brown hair and equally deep brown eyes.

"So wanna hang out sometime?" McLaggen added with an eyebrow waggle, trying to get the attention back at him -he wouldn't give up so easily- and Hermione suppressed a groan.

"I am busy, sorry."

"I didn't even specify a date," he protested, his voice rising a bit. Cassius, Caleb, whatever, stopped his story and shot them an annoyed look.

"Don't have to. I am busy," Hermione insisted and walked away.

She took another big gulp. Now her cup was empty again and she felt like partying even less than before, Cormac Mcfukggen having every last trace of her already frail good mood erased.

Unfortunately, she couldn't leave without Ginny as she had promised her that they would go home together. It wasn't safe for a drunk girl to walk the streets alone in the middle of the night. Hermione certainly wasn't going to let Ginny down, especially when the main reason she had come along was to look out for her. The friend who usually went with the redhead to parties was sick and Hermione had agreed to take her spot for the night.
She hadn't known at that point, that Ginny had the tendency to disappear almost as soon as they arrived, leaving her companions to look for her. Of course getting another drink while looking for her wasn't a bad idea.

It came to no surprise a line had formed at the entrance once again.. It was a stupid idea to put all the drinks into a small kitchen if you could distribute them in different corners of the house for easier access she thought, but it wasn't her party and she didn't even know the organizator, so she had to wait. She sighed and checked her phone.

THEPrinceCharming: same. Nietsche is bettre than drunks and parties and I want to go home

Hermione frowned. It was quite unusual for the Prince to make mistakes. And "go home"… Hermione's eyes widened. He was probably at a party too. The question was if he was at the same party she was.

As she entered the kitchen, a girl passed next to her with a tray of shots she now saw was distributing and Hermione took one without hesitation, drowning it immediately as she formed her response. She was playing a dangerous game and she knew it.

Persephone: Considering you are one of those drunks, it can't be that bad.

Hermione scowled. She had had to correct herself two times before she sent the message. The alcohol was rising to her head too as it seemed. That didn't stop her pouring yet another glass of wine.

When she exited the kitchen again, Hermione quite literally ran into Malfoy, who was not looking where he was going, and spilled some of her wine over hand. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when she saw who he was arguing with and downed the contents of her cup at once. The wine wasn't as disgusting as it had been, the taste improving with the amount she had already consumed.

"Hermione!" McLaggen called after her when,in her panic, she turned back into the kitchen and followed her together with Malfoy.

"What?" she asked the two men who simply wouldn't stop ruining her evening and crossed her arms over her chest.

"As the smartest person on this party," McLaggen said and Hermione frowned. If he was staring like that, she wasn't going to like what was to come. "I need you to settle a disagreement between Malfoy here and me."

"Will you two leave me alone for the remainder of the night if I do?" she asked with a sigh.

The two men exchanged a quick glance before agreeing to Hermione's delight.

"So what's the disagreement about?"

"Which one of us is prettier?" Malfoy asked, looking at her earnestly and Hermione dropped her cup for real. Luckily it had been empty and even if it hadn't - she wouldn't care. The whole fucking situation was too surreal and Hermione wanted to scream. This had to be a bad joke. She officially despised parties. Damn Ginny and damn herself for agreeing.

"Well?" McLaggen shifted from one foot to another impatiently and Hermione swallowed. They were obviously really expecting an answer and weren't just making fun of her, filthy drunk as they were.

"Ask someone else," Hermione leaned down to pick up her cup, hoping that they wouldn't see her blush. "I am sure a lot of girls would be happy to help you."

"No!" Malfoy protested, gesturing wildly. "It has to be you!" He slurred. "Only you are resistant to our charms! You can make an unbiased decision!"

Hermione laughed at that. She laughed loudly. She hadn't exactly asked McLaggen to Slughorn's party because of his character - she hadn't really known him at that point. And Malfoy… Malfoy with his damned perfect hair and gray eyes and too much self-confidence was definitely the prettier of the two, even with his too sharp chin and terrible character, but she wasn't nearly drunk enough to admit it out loud. Hell, she was barely drunk enough to admit it to herself.

"Make a contest. Ask the girls on the party to choose," she said and grabbed the nearest- and last- wine bottle, trying to get past them, but Malfoy caught her.

"Come on, Hermiooone," he whinned. "This is important!"

Hermione was so stunned, she didn't pull away from him. In all the years they had known each other, he hadn't called her by her first name even once.

She put the wine bottle back on the table carefully and reached for the vodka. She knew it was a bad idea, but took a swing from the bottle nevertheless. And another.

"McLaggen," she said with clenched teeth and shoved the bottle into the arms of a very stunned Malfoy, darting around him as she had finally, finally spotted Ginny.

She was talking to one of Malfoy's friends, Zabini, and Hermione couldn't believe her luck.

"You should take Malfoy home. He is pissed," she said to Zabini before turning to Ginny. "And we are going too. Now!"

"What happened?" Ginny asked with worry at Hermione's tone but Hermione only shook her head and pulled her to where they had left their jackets.

Despites Ginny's protests and questions, Hermione managed to find her coat and Ginny's leather jacket and soon they were out of the house and on their way.

When Hermione finally collapsed into her bed, she swore to herself that she wouldn't attend a party ever again.

Draco woke up with a dry throat and a pounding headache. He reached for the water bottle he always kept next to his bed and swallowed the aspirin he had put on his bedside-table before he left, knowing very well that he would need it the next morning. He thanked himself for so much foresight.

Not really wanting to get out of bed before the painkiller kicked in, Draco reached for his phone.

THEPrinceCharming: You know what's best about Nietzsche? He doesn't make your head hurt
Persephone: I am sure there are people who would disagree with that.

Draco laughed, cursing himself immediately, as his head throbbed and protested for the loud sound.

THEPrinceCharming: I am sporting a massive hangover and am 100% certain that Nietzsche couldn't make somebody's head hurt this much
Persephone: As my head never hurt because of reading, I can't really tell
Persephone: Am I a bad person for being glad that you are suffering too?
THEPrinceCharming: Are you telling me that we are both nursing a hangover?
THEPrinceCharming: I am glad that I am not suffering alone, so no, you are not a bad person for it.
THEPrinceCharming: what are you going to do today? stay in bed?
Persephone: probably. read a bit, study a bit, maybe watch a movie or something. You?
THEPrinceCharming: You are going to study with a hangover? Seriously?
THEPrinceCharming: I am going to sleep, eat and watch stuff.

Draco absentmindedly scrolled upwards in the conversation to check if he hasn't written anything stupid and froze.

There were several pictures of his body as well as Persephone's. Luckily, they were still wearing underwear and there were no faces, but it was weird. Draco scrolled completely upwards, not really remembering what had prompted the exchange.

THEPrinceCharming: Im a responsibel drunk! I am not annnoyng. Sometimes I get injured, but it's mosty ym friends' fault
THEPrinceCharming: But I've gotten a couple of really niiiiice scars from it. Wanna see them?
THEPrinceCharming: picture send

Draco grimaced when he saw the first picture. He had managed to photograph the long thin scar running over the back of his left leg in an extremely weird angle which showed his arse.

Persephone: We shouldn't do this
THEPrinceCharming: Come oooon! Scars are so cool! And you don't recognize me, rihgt?
THEPrinceCharming: If you don't reconize my purfect arse, we don't know each other!

Draco skipped his story about that particular scar, and ignored the other photos he send, stopping at the picture showing his chest.

His upper body and back were covered in thin scars that he had gotten during a fight with fucking Harry Saint Potter, which had nearly cost him his life. Harry had pushed him through a heavy glass window that broke under his weight and Draco ended up lying in a sea of glass, one particularly big shard missing his artery only by micrometers. Some other blood veins have been punctured and hadn't it been for late Professor Snape turning up when he did, Draco wouldn't have survived the incident.

Draco gulped, bracing himself. He feared that he had told her about it, starting something he couldn't take back. He had never talked about the incident with anyone, and he wasn't going to.

THEPrinceCharming: picture send
THEPrinceCharming: Tbh this is why I try to convince myself scars are cool
Persephone: Oh my god! I am so sorry! What happened?
THEPrinceCharming: I don't want to talk about it. It was a very bad time in my life and that had been only the cherry on the top.
THEPrinceCharming: And I hate it. I can't undress myself in front of people or they'll ask questions. I hate the pitying looks
THEPrinceCharming: One of the main reasons why I don't do ONS
Persephone: you aren't the only one. I understand
Persephone: picture send
Persephone: Scars only show we survived.

Draco gaped at the picture of her stomach, a huge scar running all over it, starting at her hip and ending between her breasts. It looked almost as if somebody had tried to cut her in two.
The remainder of the conversation was a lot of self pity on his part and Persephone trying to assure him that it didn't look that bad and hers was worse as it was so thick, while his were mostly really faint. He reassured her that she was still beautiful and all in all it was a drunken mess.

Draco scrolled down to the recent messages.

Persephone: I usually recover by noon, so studying isn't really a problem.
Persephone: And as I grow antsy if I don't do anything for a long time, it's a rather good choice as I can still stay in bed

Draco hesitated for a second. Persephone hadn't addressed the pictures and their talk from the previous night. That meant, he had two options: talk about it or ignore it forever. Both had pros and cons and Draco really didn't know how he wanted to proceed..

Talking about it meant that he was ready to open up to her, while not talking would mean that he would keep their relationship just as it was.

Draco's fingers trembled when he set to type.

THEPrinceCharming: About last night
THEPrinceCharming: I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable
THEPrinceCharming: The alcohol got the better of me. But I mean it when I said you were beautiful -the scar doesn't change that.

THEPrinceCharming: And I don't even mean it in a sexual way. More like, it doesn't determine your worth or beauty or whatever way.

Draco had to wait several minutes for a reply. She was probably just reading their conversation, he told himself to calm his nerves, hoping that he had made the right decision.

Persephone: You caught me by surprise
Persephone: And thank you. Same to you. .
Persephone: I don't know what to say
Persephone: what now?

Draco bit his lip. That was a good question. He knew he had opened Pandora's box. He just had no idea what was waiting inside.