Secrets and Saviors

A/N: Hey sorry for the long wait guys! But I have the next 2 chapters ready, so I will update tres soon! R&R byeeeee! x

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.

It seemed as if everybody had gotten at least a little bit drunk, or even totally out of it, in a matter of minutes.

The drunken boy who proposed to her last week asked her again, but this time he had actually managed to get some muggle born boy to offer to be the be the vicar.

She had spoken to Harry and Ron, but Harry was too busy chatting up Padma, who was just using him to get to Ron, whilst Ron was having a drinking competition with Seamus. She had tried to get his attention, but he wasn't really capable of speech at the moment. Harry however, looked too interested in Padma to notice Hermione, so she just left the two to the own business. Maybe they would speak again later.

All around her people were hooking up, dancing, or drinking. She smiled to herself; she knew the party was a success.

The clique had all split up their separate ways at first, and occasionally all five would collide together.

"Hey, what happened to my blind date?" Hermione asked at one point, not really caring.

They all blushed, but Pansy was not one to be shy and show much of her feelings, so she just blurted out the truth.

"He seemed pretty busy with another girl." She looked up to Hermione to see her reaction, and she burst out laughing.

Hermione, Pansy, Pavarti, Hannah and Padma all walked over to the area covered in fluffy pillows and blankets (they had to shoo a few couples away before the area was clear), and collapsed into a heap, giggling at each other.

Pansy was swaying, holding a bottle of Champagne, and trying her best to top up their glasses, but ended up spilling more than half onto the pillows.

"Oops!" she giggled

The music, the people, the atmosphere made Hermione feel the best she ever had in her entire life at Hogwarts. Why hadn't she learned to let go before? She felt as if she had definitely missed out on all these parties she hadn't gone to, but this year was different. She was going to every party, even if it was a day before her N.E.W.T's. She wasn't going to miss out on this feeling anymore.

Hermione had had her fair share of alcohol tonight, and was feeling quite tipsy, but she hadn't done anything stupid… yet. She still had a few of her senses around, but for the most, Hermione had almost no control over what she was doing.

She glanced around the room, and caught a few envious stares coming from some girls. She had gotten used to that though; everyone wanted to be part of the clique, and they all wanted to live that life. They were so jealous of them that it was useless to try and hide it. Most of the time the girls just laughed in their faces, but when her friends from the past, like Ginny, gave her that stare, she felt a churn of guilt and regret, and tried to push the familiar face out of her head.

But tonight was about having fun.

"Ok, ok…" Padma whispered. "Let's tell each other our deepest darkest secrets!"

Hermione knew all too well that they probably wouldn't remember anything that had gone on tonight come morning, so what harm was there in telling them her secret? Now she just had to think of one…

"Ok let's start wiiiiiith…." Hannah said "How about Padma!"

"Ok…Parvarti, I'm really sorry about this…but Harry asked me out, but I said no, I promise, and I told him that maybe he should try you, and you never know, because…" her voice trailed off, and she looked at Parvarti, who looked a little bit hurt, but she came over to Padma and hugged her.

"You're a pretty cool sister, not everyone would have done that for me."

Hermione sighed with relief. That could have ended up in a major cat-fight.

"Ok, my turn!" Hannah said "Now please don't tell anyone, but . . . I'm not a virgin."

. . . Well. Who would have expected that from Hannah! Hermione burst out laughing, and she wasn't the only one, everybody was giggling.

"What?" a confused Hannah asked "Is that so hard to believe?"

"YES!" They all roared, and all of them including Hannah fell into a heap, clutching their ribs with laughter.

It took a few minutes to get themselves together, but then it was Pansy's turn.

"Ok, this is for Hermione" she said, turning to face Hermione, "It was my idea to ask you into the clique, because you told me you were friends with Malfoy and I wanted to use you, to get back together with him, but then you turned out to be pretty cool, and I decided to get Malfoy myself."

There was a long silence.

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears.

She stood up, and everyone except Pansy looked apologetically at her. She walked away, distantly hearing them yelling at Pansy, who looked shocked at Hermione's reaction. At least the rest of the clique was making her feel pretty damn bad about it.

How…how could she? She used me, to get to Draco? What a mega bitch.

She burst out crying in the middle of the room, and a few startled looking people backed away from her. Her mascara was running, and she quickly put her mask across her face. For the first time since she was in the clique, she wished she wasn't quite so noticeable.

She stumbled across the room, and collided into something – or somebody.

"Hey, Granger?" Blaise Zabini asked, looking a bit confused. "Are you alright? You don't look too good . . ." Hermione could smell the alcohol on his breath, but for now she didn't care; she needed somebody to talk to.

"No" she sniffed "She was really mean to me!" she said, a fresh flood of tears pouring down her face.

"Hey, hey, hey, shush….its ok," Blaise said, winking at his friends who were watching the pair, "I'll take you to your bedroom, and I'll make you feel better," he practically shouted.

Behind them, his Slytherin friends started sniggering, knowing the habits of the longtime player. Crying girls were his specialty.

Hermione, however, was clueless to what was going on in front of her. She was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to listen to what Blaise was saying.

"Ok…thank you." she murmured, as she stumbled across the room with Blaise holding on to her tightly.

All the while… (Pansy's point of view):

I had to tell her, it's been gnawing at me for ages. I needed to get it off my chest, she thought to herself.

She lay back on the pillows and looked upwards; her party people had made the ceiling invisible, so she could see the stars and the moon above her.

Someone came up to her, and lay down beside her.

She was in the process of telling them to piss off when she saw the familiar blonde hair.

"Hey." she whispered.

"Hey" Malfoy replied, voice equally quiet.

He turned to his side, and faced her.

"You look amazing tonight," he whispered into her ear, mouth dangerously close.

The brush of his lips across her ear made Pansy flutter with nerves and excitement. She had missed this feeling so much…

Draco's point of view:

Ok, what did Hermione write on her notes . . . Draco pondered, attempting to recall the Head Girl's curly script on the muggle note cards he had found in his bag the other day. Oh yes . . .

Always take your time, girls like it when you compliment them, and keep talking. They want to feel as if all your attention is on them, constantly.

Well then, he smirked, I'll do exactly the opposite; she doesn't really know what a girl likes…does she?

He rolled on top of Pansy, his body overlapping and fitting against hers, a perfect match.

"I've been meaning to do this for so long," he murmured.

Pansy's point of view:

She could smell the familiar scent of Firewhiskey on his breath. It made her gag, and she was sent reeling back into a memory from the past…a memory she had tried to block out…

Running towards the Slytherin common room, she realized how late she was for her meeting with Draco. They had been going out for two months now, and they had planned to go outside into the grounds tonight, for some 'time alone', as Draco had whispered to her over breakfast. He had exited swiftly afterwards, leaving Pansy with a plate full of kippers, unable to eat another bite.

They had arranged the details that morning after they had made out in the common room: adrenaline was pumping, hearts were racing and at that moment they never wanted to let go of each other, but unfortunately lessons got in the way, and that's why they had decided to have a special meeting. She smiled to herself, she really felt in love…

But she was 20 minutes late, being lectured by Professor McGonagall about how if she didn't pick up her grades she may be put down a year. The transfiguration professor clearly didn't understand the urgency of how Pansy needed to leave, so all she could do was hear her out and hope that Draco wouldn't get angry at her for being so late.

"Traitor" she said, sprinting up to the hidden wall, and it opened up, showing the Slytherin common room inside. She ran up the stairs to his room by the Prefect's corridor, where they had agreed to meet.

The smell of Draco's aftershave was making her want him so badly…she couldn't wait to see him. She pushed the door open…and her mind lost connection with her body.

Distantly, she could see Draco pushing himself off the girl, saw her screaming at him, felt as if in a dream her mouth opening and spewing out words, meaningless sentences. Ironically, the first thought that rang in her head was:

My goodness. He could certainly do a lot better than Daphne Greengrass.

The girl in question, Queenie Greengrass (no, not Queenie anymore, slut, cheat, whorescamptoad) was scrambling with her clothes and frantically dodging hexes Pansy belatedly realized were coming out of her own wand. She decided to keep them going.

In a little corner of her brain, her mind was replaying the scene over and over again like one of those Muggle recorders. In perfect clarity, she saw Draco's hand against her breast, their legs intertwined, his mouth kissing hers with all the emotion of a robot, no passion, no love –

The exact same way he kisses me.

(no not kisses kissed nomoretraitorheartbreakernomore)

And now he was touching her with those robotic hands (coldlikeice) squeezing her arms, making her drop her wand. Not before she smelled his breath, like bitter acid – and swore she wasn't ever going to drink.

Although that promise didn't end up lasting. Her theory was that drinking made her depressed, and drinking reminded her of Draco, and Draco made her depressed, and together, it was all one delicious swirl of painhatetormentanguish and she could drown in the blackness, and come to the next morning ready to go, all the bad exorcised out of her during the night.

So her wand was gone, rolling somewhere under the bed, the bed that still had Daphne's red knickers lying on them (nononoslut), and Draco was talking urgently to her, that little crease in his brow that she loved so much turning up (nomusn't loveitanymoreit'sratheruglyinfact), and she couldn't be bothered to listen to him now, she'd been doing that for the past six years. Still in a daze, (maybe it was all a dream), she ran down the stairs again, a faint stinging telling her she must have tripped once or twice, pitying faces staring as she stumbled through

(nonoI'mPansyParkinsonneverpitiedalwaysfearedrespectedhatedneverpitiedno),

And then it was stone walls and portraits and the room of requirement – and then it was just Pansy, curling up on the floor and sobbing and covering and blocking and forgetting – this didn't happen to her, this hadn't happened to her, this wouldn't happen to her . .. no. She was Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin, and this did not happen to her. And that's all there was to it.

Reeling from the unexpected flashback, Pansy pushed the drunk boy off of her…she had been waiting for this moment almost all summer, but the unwanted memory made her realize all the pain she went through, and she wasn't ready to forgive him without a little bit more punishment. She needed to get back at him, she had to have her own little revenge on him, now that she knew he had feelings for her. That was what she did. That was who she was.

Draco stood up and looked at her with lust in his eyes (justlustonlylustnothingmorenevermore), and walked away.

She closed her eyes.

When The Incident had not happened, she had decided to tell the ex-clique members that they should unite again. She had used them as well; she needed them to show Draco that she could live on without him, she did have friends, and that she was beautiful. But she was a Slytherin, they had to understand it was in her nature to only do things for herself. She had used them all though…

Even though she told herself this continuously (she had used them all), she was in the process of experiencing a new feeling to her… what was it called again? Oh yeah - …regret.

Blaise led Hermione up the stairs towards her dorm room. She could vaguely hear the arrival of Draco joining the group Blaise just left, but she was too upset to care. They walked up the stairs to her room; she assumed he was going to take her upstairs to put her to bed, and then go back to the party. They got to the landing, and she said;

"Thank you Blaise, it's really nice of you to - …" she was cut off by his lips crashing down on hers. She tried to get him off her, but he was too strong.

She was yelling into his mouth, giving him an opportunity to force his tongue into her mouth and it made her choke. As she was coughing in his mouth, Blaise pulled away.

"What's the problem?" Blaise laughed, "I thought you would like to get with a Slytherin! Maybe some of our superiority would rub off on a filthy mudblood like you!" and with that, he pushed her against the wall. He grabbed her wrists, and held them above her head against the cold stone. Hermione felt petrified, and as helpless as she had that time in the Department of Mysteries. She was silently praying that someone could come and save her. Anyone…

"Hey, why is Blaise going to the bedrooms?" a curious Draco asked, forming along the fringes of the Slytherin males. "Someone told me they were locked, and only opened to the Head Girl and Boy."

"Indeed . . . but the Head Girl herself was with him. She was upset about something. He's probably gonna screw her. Personally, I'd pick the Parkinson bitch. . Looks like a livelier fuck," someone casually said, wandering off in search of more liquor.

Draco didn't even register anything after "screw her." White-hot energy was pulsing through his head, and the only time her could remember being this angry was when his father was sent to Azkaban at the end of fifth year. A small part of his brain was asking why he was behaving so irrationally towards this piece of news, but the rest of him was only following one train of thought. If any Slytherin was going to defeat Hermione Granger in any way, it was going to be him. He was the one with a personal grudge against her; the slap from Third Year still stung along his pride. Wasn't that fool Zabini aware that Hermione was his?

He blinked, and re-examined his last thought. Speaking in terms of revenge, of course. Of course.

The whole introspective thinking bit was working on his nerves, and he was getting agitated; should he go upstairs? No one would notice at this point, he decided, disgustedly kicking aside a snogging Thomas and Finnigan before heading towards the Heads' rooms. Perfectly calmly. Not rushing at all, he thought as he sped his pace to a run.

"Here Granger, drink this, it'll loosen you up," Blaise slurred, taking two fingers and lifted her chin upwards. Prying her mouth open, he poured Firewhiskey down her throat; she gagged, but had to swallow, or pass out. She suddenly felt much lighter, and almost fell over, but Blaise grabbed her around her waist and leaned in closer, and started whispering things in her ear, things that put graphic images in her head, and not in a good way. If it wasn't Blaise, Hermione would have really enjoyed it, but under the current circumstances, she just wanted to be in bed…alone.

"Blaise…please stop" Hermione slurred, but despite her vocal protestations, her body betrayed her as she rested her head on his shoulder, the effects of the Firewhiskey starting to kick in. Well, not just Firewhiskey, she realized, as she tasted traces of nightshade and belladonna, ingredients in a powerful drugging potion.

"That's right…" Blaise whispered when Hermione fell towards him. He kissed her not-so-gently on the forehead, and then across her jaw towards her lips. Hermione was too tired to stop him, but she needed somebody NOW!

Ok, I'm going up there, I know how Zabini gets when he's drunk, turns into a total Gryffindor. With a sadistic streak. Draco thought to himself.

He quickly bound up the last of the stairs, to find himself on the landing where the two bedrooms met.

He saw their shadowy silhouettes in the darkness: he had her pinned against the wall, her hands above her head. She looked vulnerable and terrified, and Draco tried to ignore the rush of protectiveness and arousal that swept through him.

He also saw Blaise covering her, kissing her… and that killed the latter feeling.

"Blaise...stop!" she heard her whimper. He didn't want Blaise hooking up with a Clique member when he had just been rejected by one. He had to feel superior in every way to any other Slytherin, and that also meant he had to have a prettier looking girl by his side. He couldn't let Blaise get her… which was why he was going to be a fuckin' noble knight on a white steed for a Gryffindor, he thought, shuddering. Well, metaphorically, at least. He wondered if his hair counted as the white part. One thing he knew: this could never be revealed. Unless he wanted to become the blonde version of Harry Potter, getting a line of first year Hufflepuffs at his door begging him to rescue their kittens.

"Blaise! Get the fuck of her!" Draco yelled, pushing the Slytherin away.

"What the hell is your problem?" came the reply from an extremely pissed off and drunk Blaise.

"She's a mudblood, dumbass, and besides…" he tried to think of something, "Some girls are giving out lap dances downstairs," he finished triumphantly.

Without an answer Blaise absolutely flew down the stairs, his only parting comment directed towards Hermione: "Fucking frigid bitch!"

He turned to face Hermione, who was swaying on her feet.

"Thank you so much, you…you saved me" she giggled, and she collapsed into his arms. He could instantly see the effects of Zabini's favorite drugging potion, and knew the girl wasn't in control of her body.

She was so close to him, though, this was his chance, he could get her. And I could also get back at Pansy for what she did…he quickly added. He didn't want to admit the truth to himself yet. Not that he was sure what he was really hiding from himself… But good to always have a solid Draco Malfoy reasoning behind every action. Otherwise he might start following his feelings . . . not a good idea.

But before he could do anything, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss. A rather sloppy, drunken kiss, but a kiss none-the-less.

He could smell all sorts of foul things on her breath, and when they kissed, her hipbone dug awkwardly into his thigh. And their heads were at a completely wrong angle. All those things aside, though, it was a pretty damn good kiss. Before Draco could really enjoy it, it was over, as Hermione sagged into his arms, completely knocked out.

Draco smiled to himself. He had a drunk, beautiful, and obviously willing girl standing right in front of him.

He grinned; now what should I do for the rest of the night?