1Chapter 12: Whisky Christmas Eve
Hermione spent almost every night in Draco's room. On night's when she had band practice or a performance they would leave together and on night's when there was nothing to do with the band Hermione would dress up like May and sneak into Draco's room through the window. It was really getting to be quite a hassle. Hermione frequently wondered how much easier it would be too just walk across the common room and into Draco's room as herself. Instead she was forced to continue her charade; it was either that or give up Draco entirely, a prospect which was becoming increasingly unattractive.
The pressure was definitely getting to Hermione. Band practice was starting to cut into her homework, Jule was as crazy as ever, Harry and Ron were paying attention to her again and therefore required some of her attention and she wasn't getting as much sleep as she really needed, thanks to Draco. Worst of all the animagus lessons didn't seem to be working. By now Draco could transform almost completely, he just tended to forget little details, like changing his hands into paws or the exact proportions of a healthy wolf's body. Hermione had made barely any progress, a fact which Draco liked to mock her about incessantly. Hermione hated that he was better at her than anything, and that he had to see her struggling while he was doing so well.
"I don't understand it!" She burst out one afternoon. She was in the library with Jule, reading up on animagi and lions. Madame Pince, the librarian, sent her an admonishing look. "It doesn't make any sense!" She whispered passionately to Jule, much quieter now. "I understand the theory, I know the anatomy of a lioness so perfectly I could draw one from memory, yet still I can barely sprout whiskers! What's wrong with me?"
"Well," Jule pondered seriously. "You remember what I told you, about being insecure and whatnot? Maybe pretending to be someone else isn't the best way to fix your insecurities." Hermione glared at her in silence. "Just a thought!" Jule added anxiously.
"Maybe you're right," Hermione sighed. "I mean the fact is I've never given all that much thought to who I was on my own. I've always been wrapped up in books, then I was Harry Potter's sidekick, and now I'm May, but who's Hermione without the books and the famous friend? No one, that's who."
"I happen to disagree," Jule murmured. "I hardly ever spend time with you when you're with Harry, we don't generally discuss books or have reading sessions together or whatever, and mostly you're just May with Malfoy. I think the real you is pretty cool, even if you don't."
Hermione smiled back weakly. "Thanks, but I can't really just take your word for it. Maybe this whole May thing was a bad idea."
"Now look," Jule brightened up instantly. "We're looking at it all wrong. The fact is May isn't some strange other person, it's just you when you aren't so afraid to be yourself. So, all you have to do is be like May, but as Hermione."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does to me and that's all that matters as far as I'm concerned," Jule replied flippantly.
"But how can that help me then?" Hermione was starting to get frustrated with Jule's lack of helpfulness.
"OK, as May you aren't afraid to sing in public, or wear skanky clothes, or kiss random guys who turn out to be Malfoy. Since you are May that means that even as Hermione you'd be just as willing to do all of those things, you're just afraid of what other people will think. Just get over it; other people really don't care as much as you think they do."
"I don't know whether I should feel offended or not."
"It's not about you!" Jule yelled in frustration. "If you're so afraid of what other people think of you, then that means that you don't care what they do, as long as they don't look at you. Most people are just as wrapped up in themselves as you are; they're too busy worrying what you think of them to ever think about you. So get over yourself because everyone else has already gotten over you!" Jule threw down the book she had been skimming through and stomped out of the library, leaving Hermione to think.
Knowing that she had to get over herself didn't really help her do it though. Knowing something is quite different from truly realizing something.
It was with a certain relief that Hermione realized it was almost Christmastime. It was exactly what she needed; some time away from school and Jule and Draco and most especially time away from May. Hermione owled her parents asking if she could spend this Christmas vacation at home, as opposed to how she usually stayed at Hogwarts. They responded immediately that they would be very happy to have her and that she was always welcome at home.
Since she and Draco had finished their Potions project with great ease quite some time ago Hermione was not nervous about turning it in at all. On the last day of class she handed in several vials of their potion and a short paper detailing their research and predictions as well as the outcome of their experiment. In addition to using the shavings of a dragon's scale, unicorn hair, and sphinx saliva Hermione and Draco had decided to experiment with phoenix tears for regenerative and immune system properties. The result was a potion that could make the drinker ridiculously strong physically, magically, and mentally who was practically invincible. A strong potion indeed, one Hermione thought might come in handy for Harry when he had to kill Voldemort.
Snape skimmed their research lazily when she handed it in and lifted an eyebrow in interest when he came across their addition. "Interesting idea, Miss Granger. And it works?"
"Yes sir," Hermione blushed from his slight praise. "At least, it repaired minor injuries. We never tested with too much potion or inflicted too much damage to the drinker, just in case. Besides, if Malfoy drank too much he might take over the world."
"Shove it Granger," Draco hissed from beside her.
"I suppose your cowardice is understandable, Miss Granger," Snape drawled. "Very well, I will test it in a greater dosage myself, just to observe its effects. If your hypothesis was indeed correct, then this is a very valuable potion."
Hermione, not knowing whether she had been complemented or insulted simply nodded her head and left the classroom. It was the end of the last day of the term and Hermione was on her way home. She hurried back to her room to pack.
Hermione skipped through her room, throwing her things into her trunk and humming under her breath. Just the break she needed!
"Why so happy, Granger?" A familiar voice drawled from the doorway to her room.
"Not that it's any of your business, Malfoy, but I'm going home for the break," Hermione sang back.
"Lucky you," Draco muttered, sounding almost jealous. Hermione paused in her packing, staring at Draco in puzzlement.
"Well, what's wrong with you then?" She demanded, trying not to sound too concerned.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I can't go home this Christmas," Draco answered sullenly. "Father's still in jail, not that I give a damn about him, and Mother's too depressed to be bothered with things like holiday cheer or seeing that her son gets fed regularly."
Hermione felt bad for poor Draco. He was miserable and she was just leaving.
"Besides which," Draco continued even more miserably. "I can't even spend the break with my girlfriend because she's visiting some friends in France." Hermione winced at the lie she herself had told just yesterday. As soon as she had received her parents' letter she had dressed as May to tell Draco she was leaving for the vacation that very day. It was too late to go back now; Draco thought May had already left.
"I'm sorry Malfoy," Hermione reached out her hand to place it tenderly on his arm. "I really am."
Draco seemed to recover himself. "Like I need your sympathy," he snarled, shaking her arm off before stomping off to his own room where he slammed the door shut behind him.
Hermione sighed, having second thoughts about her carefree vacation.
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Draco stared broodingly at the fireplace in the common room. It was the morning of the day the students were leaving Hogwarts to return home for the vacation. Almost everyone was gone; all of his friends, not that he had many, and May was already off in France somewhere without him. He wished he could be anywhere else on earth right that moment.
Suddenly Granger's door burst open. Instead of emerging wearing her cloak with her packed trunk beside her Granger was dressed in pajamas like he was and she yawned, stretching sleepily.
"Did you oversleep or something?" Draco asked contemptuously. "I think you've already missed the train."
Granger shrugged. "I decided not to go."
"Why the hell not?"
Granger frowned at his prying tone. "Because, I wanted to rest and I realized if I went home I'd be swarmed by all my annoying cousins. At least here almost everyone's gone. I guess I still have to put up with you though, don't I?" She sneered at him, but the expression didn't quite reach her eyes.
Draco didn't respond, merely turning his gaze back to the fireplace from his vantage point on the couch. He was rather startled when Granger sat on the couch next to him, a large book in her hands.
"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded somewhat shrilly. "There's a red chair right over there just for you."
"Shut up," Granger answered distractedly flipping through her book. "This couch is more than big enough for the two of us and the red chair isn't as comfortable."
"Why don't you go spend time with your friends?"
Granger sighed and closed the book. "Because, Harry and Ron are at the Burrow and Jule went back to the States to see her parents. It's just you and me, baby, get used to it."
Draco shuddered in horror and drew himself up into a small ball at his end of the couch, as far away from Granger as possible, and stared once more into the flames. They sat like that for quite some time, Granger reading her book and Draco staring at nothing.
They spent several days like that, sitting in the common room, neither speaking to the other, each wrapped up in their own individual thoughts completely ignoring the other and only leaving the common room for meals or when Granger needed a new book. At least, that's how Draco saw it. Although she was busy reading or doing homework Hermione was constantly aware of her silent companion, wishing they could converse with the ease they could have had he thought she was May. But May was gone, at least for now, and Draco hated Hermione. There was nothing she could do but pretend to keep busy and to secretly watch him out of the corner of her eye.
By Christmas Eve Hermione was thoroughly sick of the silence. It was evening and both of them were in the common room, as usual, Hermione reading a book and Draco trying to play wizard's chess by himself, failing horribly. Hermione thought she would explode from boredom. Tossing down her book she stood and marched over to where Draco sat on a pile of pillows before the fire.
"Look," she ground out. "I know you hate me, but it's Christmas Eve and I'm bored silly, so can we just call a truce and play wizard's chess together or something, because if I can't talk to anyone I think I'll go crazy."
"Crazier," Draco drawled. Then he relented, shrugging and gesturing towards the half-played game. "Join me then."
Hermione didn't really want to play chess. It was probably the only thing she was really, really terrible at and she didn't want to let him beat her. But it was either this or nothing so she nodded and sat.
They played; Hermione lost. Laughing in pleasure at her defeat Draco warmed up a bit. "You really are a pitiful chess player Granger," he chuckled. "Why did you even bother playing; you must have known how dreadful you are."
Hermione, blushing, smiled. "It was the only thing I could think of to get you to talk to me. I was so bored I'd do anything for any kind of human contact, or ferret for that matter."
Draco colored angrily before realizing she was still smiling good-naturedly. "Ferret jokes, is it?" He smiled back. "Alright buckteeth."
Hermione gasped in mock-rage. "That was years ago, thank you very much, and my teeth are perfect now!" Just to let him know she grinned broadly at him.
They laughed together for a moment. "Granger," Draco abruptly said seriously. "Before you said you knew I hated you. Does that mean that you don't hate me back?"
Hermione struggled for a moment. Of course she didn't hate him she lo-she liked him a lot. "No, I don't hate you," she finally managed. "I don't know if I did before, maybe, but I know that I don't hate you now." Meekly she added, "Do you really hate me?"
Draco seemed almost taken aback. After a moment's though he responded, "No, I guess I don't really hate you either. I know I must have before, because you were smarter than me and you were always first in our class and my father blamed me for not being as good as a muggle born witch. That's why I always called you mudblood. But no, I don't hate you anymore either."
There was a moment of silence. "Well, what should we do now?" Hermione finally asked.
"I'd say, since neither of us hates the other, it would be as good a time as any to celebrate by getting smashed," Draco answered conversationally. Hermione merely raised an eyebrow as he pulled a silver flask out of his pocket. "I was going to drink this alone later, but there's plenty for the both of us."
"Thanks," Hermione took the proffered flask, downing a shot. It was whisky. Making a slight face she cleared her burning throat and handed the flask back.
"My pleasure," Draco took the flask and took a big swig. Soon they were both very drunk.
"So, Draco," Hermione slurred conversationally. "Why'd you stop hating me, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Don't worry Granger, I mean Hermione," Draco slurred right back. "I have no idea why I stopped hating you. I don't even know when. But today, when you asked me, I just realized that I don't hate you. Why'd you stop hating me?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Hermione swallowed some more whisky, emptying the flask. She handed the flask back to Draco who threw it behind him before regarding her blearily.
"You know," he hiccoughed. "I this light, you kind of look like someone I know."
"Who?" Hermione leaned forward interestedly.
"You don't know her," he leaned forward as well. "She doesn't go here. My girlfriend, May."
"Really," Hermione leaned even closer, all sense of boundaries eliminated by the whisky in her stomach. Their noses were now almost touching.
"Yes." Draco leaned in more, closing the distance between the two of them and kissing Hermione hard on the mouth. She kissed back, drunkenly grabbing at his arms and pulling him towards her so that she was lying down on the floor with him on top of her. The clock rang midnight and Draco pulled away. "Happy Christmas!" He exclaimed, kissing her again.
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Hermione woke the next morning with a hangover lying naked next to Draco in front of the fireplace.
"Oh shit," she muttered.
Preview:
"Your girlfriend," Hermione snapped. "Will you tell her that you slept with me?"
"I don't know."