A/N: I couldn't wait. This was supposed to wait until Friday, but my self-restraint is god-awful. Think of it as a reward for your patience. I'm aiming for biweekly (every other weekend) updates from here on out, but we'll see...

So much Beta love to Almondmilkteadoubleboba, LeilahMoon, and samhuster.

Also: 'Spill the Tea' is a 90's phrase. You can google it. If there are any comments about how it's a 'modern phrase' they will be deleted :)

xoxo,

carmen


Granger was absolutely infuriating to live with. Completely and utterly the worst roommate he'd ever had, and he'd lived with Blaise and Theo for years.

She left dishes in the sink, took too long in the bathroom, and generally put off all of her cleaning until the weekends. Draco, who was used to having house-elves pick up after him his entire life, wasn't used to living in such a mess. For fuck's sake, she had magic on her side - that made everything ten times easier.

But no. Part of him thought she did it just to spite him because she knew how crazy it drove him.

She, of course, insisted that that was not the case, and 'the world doesn't revolve around you, Malfoy.' He'd wanted to throttle her.

And then, he was still dealing with that mind-blowing realization from the other night. Draco had no idea how long he'd had some kind of a thing for Granger, but the amount of tail-chasing he was doing in his mind was going to drive him into the ground.

The straw that broke the camel's back was placed the morning after their conversation, and things had been strangely peaceful in their dorm. Naturally, it only lasted all of thirteen hours before the fighting started up again. This time, though, it lacked the biting edge that it'd had for the better part of their schooling.

"Granger," came Draco's drawl. "Are you ever going to get to this?" he asked, motioning in front of him at the full right side of the sink.

She was in the common room and only half-heard him. "Hm?" she asked, and when he opened his mouth to repeat himself, she continued with, "Oh, yeah, eventually." She waved it off like it wasn't annoying as all hell.

He grit his teeth, fighting against a biting retort. "I'll rephrase," he started, cocking an eyebrow. "Will you get to this now?"

She scoffed, still not looking up from her book. "No. Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"

"Granger, you are a witch, right?" Draco asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms in front of his chest as he posed the leading question.

"Yes..?" she said, confused and still only half-listening as she flipped through the pages of her book.

"And... you're in possession of a wand, correct?" he pressed on.

She caught on. "I'm not using magic to clean up, Malfoy," she said, rolling her eyes.

His hands flailed in the air, trying to capture his irritation. "Why the everloving fuck not?" he complained.

"I like doing them the Muggle way. It's therapeutic."

Well it wasn't like he could argue that. So, he let out a giant huff instead and loudly stormed over to sit across from her. "You're so irritating," he muttered under his breath, half-hoping she hadn't heard it, half-hoping she had so she would go do the bloody dishes.

"I'll bargain with you," she said, still not looking up at him. "If you can say one nice thing about me - and mean it - I'll go do the dishes right now."

Now that was an interesting proposition... What would the Malfoy from before last night's conversation do? He needed to do that, but just a touch nicer now that they'd bonded.

"You're not that bad of a roommate once you clean up after yourself," he mumbled. "There, is that good enough for you?"

She barked out a laugh. "Malfoy, it looked like someone was pulling your teeth when you said that, and you even somehow managed to throw an insult in there. No, that does not count."

He retaliated with, "Fine, you try it. See how it feels to say something nice about me."

Granger's face grew uncertain. "Um... you have... nice hair?" Her face grew more and more red before she burst out laughing. "Okay, I have to admit I see your point," she acquiesced.

"So you'll give me that, but not do the dishes. Great. And I was hoping to get somewhere with this." Draco shook his head slowly, a thought forming in his mind. "Oh, Granger? I have a proposition for you."

Taking one look at Draco's evil genius grin - as she told him she called it - she shook her head. "No way. I want no part in whatever insane idea that's prompting that," she gestured to his face, "look on your face."

He baited her purposely - he knew she could never back down from it. "It's an idea that I think would make us get along better. And here I thought you wanted us to be friends," he said solemnly. "Silly me. Oh well," he stood up, stretched, and slowly made his way towards his bedroom door.

Three... two...

"What is it." Her voice was completely flat, forming the words as a demand instead of a question.

A-ha.

"I propose a bet," he said maniacally, whirling around with his shit-eating grin back on his face. "We each make a list of..." he thought before landing on, "seven things we genuinely like about each other. We have a month to do it and then we present it to each other and explain our reasoning. If you can't produce a genuine list, you do the dishes my way," he finished with a flourish. This, Draco thought, was one of his better ideas.

Granger's face was one of hesitant shock before she scrunched it up. "Why seven?" she asked.

Draco shrugged at her. "I don't know," he said, "it was just the first number that popped into my head. Isn't it supposed to be a magic number or some shit? Don't overthink it Granger, it's just a bloody number."

She humphed in response, and he watched her while waiting for her to process his offer. He knew - if the growing determination on her face was any indication - that she'd accept.

"And if I win?" she asked. "What do I get?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. We can figure that out when you think of something you want." He thought. "I won't use magic for a week? No, I know – you have unlimited access to the infamous Malfoy library for the rest of your days," he elaborated dramatically.

Speaking up quickly, she said, "I'll do it for the library."

So predictable. It was incredible.

Nodding slowly, she looked him hard in the eyes before standing up and coming up to him. She stuck her small hand out, and his blood ran hot as he took it in his for a firm shake. "I accept your terms."

Excellent.


Hermione was entranced, watching the smoke escape her sparked joint and drifting its way up to the ceiling before dissipating into nothingness.

Theo was on the sofa beside her, and her feet were propped up on his lap as he sipped leisurely on his glass of Firewhisky. "Do you think it gets sad?" she asked him.

"Hm?" he said.

"The smoke," she said. "Do you think it gets sad that it can't hit the ceiling?" She felt a little bit bad for it, since that was probably its primary goal, right? At least that's what she'd want to do if she were the smoke.

"No," Theo mused, regarding her thoughtfully. "I don't think it does."

"Oh, well, that's good then." She settled back into the sofa, taking a deep pull before closing her eyes on the exhale.

Theo continued, "I think it's happy to have served its purpose. I think that all it knows is to be in a state of something that turns into nothing, and it's probably happy to be used for its sole purpose."

Hermione nodded. "That's very insightful. I'm inclined to agree," she said, inhaling so it hit all the curves and dips of her lungs, seeping into all the spaces between and warming her bloodstream. "Thanks for this," she said, lips curving around the escaping smoke.

"Don't mention it," Theo said, waving her words off.

She loved these moments. The ones where she and Theo got to sit next to each other in companionable silence and just be. She'd had so few of those in the last few years, and being able to catch up on the treasured silence was now something she was working on.

Turning her brain off proved exceedingly difficult at times. Hence, Theo and the drugs.

Merlin, that sounded like a shitty band name. Theo and the Drugs. She giggled to herself. Theo looked at her questioningly, but she just shook her head.

Tipping her head back against the sofa and breathing deeply, she brought her eyes to the doorway as Malfoy and Pansy walked in.

Now, Hermione had never exchanged more than three words with Pansy Parkinson, but she didn't have much against her, per se. She'd seen her around more recently as she'd been hanging around her head counterpart. However, after the whole 'Grab him!' fiasco during the Battle, she couldn't help but feel slightly put off.

But... she wasn't opposed to clearing the air. So many people were under duress, and she wouldn't be at all shocked if Parkinson was one of them. Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, she averted her eyes back to the disappearing smoke trail.

Malfoy waved a bottle of alcohol. "We come bearing gifts," he said jovially to the pair of them. He plopped down unceremoniously on the chair across from the sofa in the head common room. Pansy quickly followed suit. It was hard to get an idea of what she was feeling, since she'd clearly perfected the Slytherin mask.

Malfoy stared at Hermione and Theo thoughtfully as they sat in awkward silence for a moment. No one really knew what to say, so Theo being Theo naturally had to be the one to break the silence. "Alright, you lot," he said enthusiastically as he clapped his hands together. "We..." he paused for dramatic effect, which was lost on the group as they waited. He rolled his eyes, "are going to play two truths and a lie."

Malfoy and Pansy eyed him warily, while Hermione rolled her eyes at him. He always did like to stir the pot, and Merlin knew that he had a knack for being successful at it.

He eyed them suspiciously. "You all know how to play, right?" Three hesitant nods followed his question. "Excellent," Theo said, smirking devilishly at the group.

Conjuring three additional glasses, he poured a generous amount of Firewhisky into each and handed them out. Theo looked around the circle, eyes narrowed, before brightening up. "Okay," he quipped, "since I'm the one in charge, I've decided that the youngest goes first."

"What? Why does it have to be me?" Malfoy whined.

"Didn't I just say?" Theo raised a brow at him. "Because you're the youngest," he said matter-of-factly.

"Fine," he huffed, rolling his eyes. He took a languid sip of the amber liquid, thinking. "Okay," he said resolutely. "I flew a broom for the first time when I was four, my mum wanted to name me Leo, and I used Spellotape on Snape's door once." He ticked off on his fingers as he listed his three.

Hermione thought for a second, before saying pointedly, "It has to be that you were almost named Leo. No self-respecting Slytherin family would have named you after a lion." She took a sip of her Firewhisky, waiting to hear the verdict.

"Yeah," he muttered. "You're right." He took another pull from his glass. "Should have known that know-it-all Granger would somehow succeed at this stupid game, too," his words were harsh, but there was a look in his eye that told her that he was teasing.

This was a strange dynamic for her to get used to.

Ignoring Malfoy's quip, she asked, "I go next, right?" she looked at Theo, who nodded. "Okay," she said, clearing her throat, taking another nervous sip of her drink before she rattled her three off in quick succession. "I've set Snape on fire before, I used a Time Turner for an entire year of school, and I kissed Harry once."

She shouldn't have used such easy ones. Theo was on her in a second. "You've never kissed Potter," he scoffed, "obviously." He rolled his eyes at her, lounging against the sofa and throwing his arm across the back of it. "You're too much like family, that would be almost creepy," he exaggerated his words with a dramatic shudder.

"Yes, fine, you're right," she acquiesced, taking a large sip of her drink.

"My turn," Theo said – too happily, in Hermione's opinion. His three rolled off the tongue rapid fire. Clearly he'd had them on deck and ready to go. "I've never broken a bone, my first kiss was Millicent Bulstrode, and I've never skipped a class."

Pansy piped up for this one. "It's gotta be the last one, everyone's skipped a class at some point," she said confidently, leaning back against her chair and swirling her drink in her glass. "Even Saint Granger, I'm sure."

Theo snickered at her. "Wrong."

Jaw on the floor, Pansy replied, "No way. Everyone's skipped a class." A grin spread across her face as both of her eyebrows flew up in shock. "You're a secret swot?" she asked with a laugh, crossing her arms nonchalantly. "Theodore Nott, I never would have guessed."

A light flush colored his cheeks. "Drink up Pans," he said as he nodded in her direction. "Accept defeat. You're wrong," he said smugly, running a hand through his messy hair.

She held up her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," she reached for her glass, taking a swig. "My turn, yeah?" she asked. Theo nodded at her, gesturing for her to bare her soul if she so desired.

"Hmm," she said, "better make this one good." She poked her tongue into her cheek as she ran her finger around the rim of her glass. "Okay, I think I got it. I punched Prefect Weasley in the face – don't look at me like that, Granger, he deserved it and I know you know it – I don't know how to swim, aaaand I hate the color green."

Draco chortled at her options. "Pans, I'm sitting right here. We've literally had sex in my pool," he rolled his eyes.

Pansy tilted her head back and let out a loud, exuberant laugh. "Draco, your pool is literally four feet deep. And you held me up the whole time," she looked at him with a spark in her eye. "And anyway, you're wrong. Drink up, pretty boy."

Hermione snickered at the pair from across the room. "Yeah, drink up pretty boy," she echoed.

Malfoy met her eyes and a flush rose to her cheeks as he did. She took a sip along with him, even though she didn't have to drink. His eyes never left hers as he peered at her from over his glass. There was something there that she couldn't quite identify – though it was probably just the fact that they were friendly now. She shook her head.

Theo spoke up before someone else could take a turn. "Okay, kids, now that all of the juvenile shit is out of the way, it's time to up the ante. Give us some juicy details about... anything interesting." Theo waggled his eyebrows to accentuate his point. "Pretty boy," he hollered, taunting Malfoy, who groaned at his new nickname, "you're up!"

Possessing the good nature to laugh at the prodding, he settled down and continued. "Okay, since we're upping the stakes..." he paused, thinking. "Alright, I lost my virginity to a Beauxbaton girl during our fourth year, I had a wet dream about McGonagall once," at that, Theo cackled. "And I prefer giving head as opposed to receiving it." The smirk that graced his face was sinful. Hermione didn't look at him, instead choosing to examine the carpet below her.

Theo spoke up quickly. "Oh, do I have this one," his laughter hadn't stopped. "It's definitely the wet dream one," he said, wiping a tear from his eye as he calmed down. "You definitely had one, but it wasn't McGonagall." His laughter erupted once more.

The girls eyed each other warily before Hermione spoke up. "I don't think we want to know."

Malfoy responded immediately. "You most definitely, one hundred percent do not," he groaned. "That much I can promise you."

Pansy piped up, "Now I kind of want to know." She looked curious, and Hermione still looked slightly hesitant to find out as she sipped on her drink further.

Theo, who was still laughing, choked out, "It was Madam Hooch."

The other three in the room froze in shock before erupting into loud laughter. Draco was red in the face, protesting, "I was thirteen for fuck sake!" In an effort to combat the heat that was rushing through him, he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. Her eyes unconsciously followed his nimble fingers as they moved.

Coming back to herself, Hermione bit out her words around laughter. "Malfoy, that makes it worse!"

As they relaxed, with few stray chuckles still erupting here and there, Theo said, "Okay, I guess that means it's my turn." He thought for a moment before sneaking a glance at Hermione and smiling. "I'm secretly a submissive, my safe word is Hooch," at that, everyone laughed again. "And I once wanked to my nanny when I was younger."

Malfoy pulled a grimace. Hermione popped in with, "Obviously your safe word isn't Hooch," she rolled her eyes. "But I don't think I'll expose you with what it really is," she laughed with a wink.

"Well, thank you for sparing me ever so graciously," he chuckled. "Alright, Granger, your turn," he prompted.

Clearing her throat, she flushed as she took a sip of her liquid courage, poured more, and drank that too. She was going to need it to get through this round. "Alright," she started uncertainly, since exposing herself like this was a bit out of her comfort zone. "I have a... thing for Quidditch players, I lost my virginity to Ron, and..." she blushed furiously before rushing out, "I'm not opposed to," she bit her lip, "being... praised."

The room was silent for a moment before Malfoy piped up and asked, "If you have a thing for Quidditch players, why the hell are you fucking Nott?" He smirked at her. "You have a perfectly viable option right here," he teased, gesturing to himself.

Flushing even deeper crimson, she said, "I absolutely refuse to answer that."

"That's my answer then, I think it's the first one," Malfoy said, cocking an eyebrow at her, crossed his arms over his chest – Hermione subsequently decided to ignore how nice his arms looked in that shirt (she blamed the alcohol) – and leaned back.

Hermione smiled down into her glass. "Drink. You're wrong." He was so completely and utterly wrong.

"Ooh, interesting," Pansy said. "Alright, I think it's option three. We all guessed it was Krum during fourth year." She cocked her head, looking at her.

Gnawing on her inner cheek, she said, "Yeah, you're right, Parksinson." She looked a bit surprised. "Did people really think that?"

Pansy scoffed. "Oh, definitely. One hundred percent. I'm not surprised in the slightest that it was true." She took a sip. "I can't speak for the other Houses, but I think half of the Slytherin girls were betting on the validity of the rumor. Lucky for me, I can finally cash in on winning that bet." She smiled triumphantly. "So thanks for that, Granger."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Hermione shrugged, feeling more comfortable having this conversation with three Slytherins than she would have ever expected. "Alright Parkinson, your turn."

"Hmm, I have to make this good," she thought. "I had sex with Daphne in our sixth year, I had a crush on Snape in first year, and I've worn socks during sex," she said, looking immensely satisfied with herself at the options she'd given.

That made them all laugh again. "God, Pans, you never fail to crack me up," Malfoy said.

Hermione chimed in. "Okay, please tell me it's the crush on Snape that's the lie. I'm begging you."

Pansy's face screwed up in response. "Obviously. That man couldn't have held my attention for Potions class, let alone a school-girl fantasy." She paused. "Merlin bless his soul," she added as an afterthought.

Malfoy flopped back so he was staring up at the ceiling. "You lot are insane. I think I'm going to have to Obliviate myself so I don't remember some of this," he muttered.

Hermione inhaled sharply. The room suddenly grew tense and Theo cursed under his breath. Theo looked at Hermione who was back to staring into her glass. Malfoy propped himself up onto his elbows and surveyed the room. "What did I say?" he asked worriedly.

Her voice was quiet as she spoke, her eyes never leaving the liquid. Theo's hand came to rest comfortingly on her thigh, rubbing soothing circles into her skin. "Before we left to go Horcrux hunting during the War, I... had to Obliviate my parents."

After a moment, Pansy let out a low whistle, breaking the thick silence. "Damn, Granger." She raised her glass in her direction. "That's dedication," she said, taking a drink.

Her lips twisted in a small smile. "Thanks."

Theo cleared his throat. "Well, that was entertaining," he said jovially, trying his best to bring back the atmosphere from the beginning of the game.

"Yeah," Pansy said. "We should do that again sometime, if you're up for it."

"Definitely," Hermione said. "That was great." A smile lit her face up. "You're not as bad as I expected, Parkinson."

A returning smile graced Pansy's face. "You're not so bad yourself, Granger."

Theo leaned over and whispered in Hermione's ear, who nodded in response. "Well," she said to the room, drinking what was left of the glass before levitating it to the kitchen and standing up shakily, "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"And I'd better make sure she gets there alive," Theo said, jokingly rolling his eyes. "Come on," he grabbed her hand, "let's get you to bed, yeah Granger?"

"Okay," she smiled up at him again. "You're the best, Theo."

He chuckled at her. "Yes, so you've said," he retorted as he maneuvered her to the kitchen for water before starting to guide her gently in the direction of her room, leaving Draco and Pansy.

"Well," Pansy said, getting to her feet and draining the rest of her glass. "I'm going to head out, I'm knackered. You good to get to bed?"

"Yeah, yeah," he waved her off. "Go get some rest. I'll see you soon." He did his best to keep his eyes from drifting back to the slaphappy pair. Granger briefly met his eyes before looking back up to Theo.

He wasn't sure he hid it from Pansy well enough – that bloody witch somehow noticed everything.


Successfully crossfaded after their unexpected bout of shenanigans, Hermione stumbled into her room, tugging Theo along behind her. He wrapped his fingers around her arm as he caught and steadied her.

"Woah there," he chuckled. "I'm not trying to bring you to the hospital wing and have to explain all of this to Madam Pomfrey at this hour," he teased, waving his hand over her body.

Hermione's words rolled off her tongue without pause or hesitation. "Mmm, you're always so nice to me," she said, closing her eyes and burrowing into his chest, running her hands up his biceps.

Wrapping his arms around her with a chuckle, Theo rested his chin on top of her head. The sound vibrated through her, warming her from the inside out. Deciding to step back and tug him onto her bed, they fell with a giggle.

Opening her eyes with a slow blink, she found herself on top of him and straddling his waist. Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips as she stared down into his brown eyes, shifting her hips just slightly. His lips parted and his eyes darkened a touch, enough to indicate what he was thinking. A slow smirk grew as she shifted her hips again, this time more purposely.

Theo's eyelashes fluttered with pleasure as he pushed his hips up into hers, grinding against her with more intent. "We're really doing this, huh?" he asked.

"Why not?" she retorted, grinding down harder. "We both know that crossed sex feels better. Who am I to waste such a... shall I say 'golden' opportunity?"

Theo poked his cheek with his tongue, eyeing her with unmasked heat. "Who indeed," he murmured, quickly casting the contraceptive charm for her.

Reaching up and flipping her onto her back, he pushed the breath out of her as his lips dipped down to meet hers. He swallowed her air so that when he pulled away to kiss his way down her neck, she was already panting as she tilted her neck to give him better access.

"Fuck," she muttered as she arched into him. He was so bloody, unfairly good at this. It was a good thing that they both were okay with using each other like this.

Humming contentedly against her, he quickly shed them of both their shirts. Theo wasn't often one for dragging out the removal of clothes – he'd made it clear that he wanted to see all of her whenever he had the opportunity.

Theo was a simple man. It made things much easier.

A hungry look grew in her eyes as she realized what she wanted. Wriggling under him as he inched her bottoms off, she stuttered out, "Theo." He immediately paused, looking up at her questioningly. "Don't stop," she corrected, "I just want to be on top."

He grinned and flipped her back over. "Alright, Granger," he said as he gripped her hips hard. "Let's see what you've got, yeah?"

A smile crept across her face. "Hmm, let's see we shall."

She was completely naked on top of him, and she wanted absolutely nothing more than to rid him of his boxers immediately. Inching herself backwards, purposely rubbing her heat against his covered cock and relishing the groan it pulled from him, she moved to sit between his legs.

Teasing her fingers below his waistband, she pulled them off unceremoniously. Bending down to grip him in her right hand, she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. The pure, unmasked heat that was in his eyes as he stared down at her, chest heaving in anticipation, sent a steady pulse between her legs.

Not breaking eye contact, she leaned forward and licked a stripe from base to tip. Bringing just the head of him into her mouth, she teased her tongue around it, taunting him as she felt the strain of his muscles under her. Dipping down, she pulled the rest of him into her mouth, swirling her tongue and hollowing her cheeks as she sucked.

"Fuck, Hermione, you're so fucking good with your mouth," Theo said, and it sounded like a prayer as the words tumbled from his lips.

She hummed around him at the praise, which earned a hiss from him, and she dipped her left hand between her own legs.

Theo noticed and quickly decided he was done with the foreplay. He grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her up so she was on top of him once again. "Go on," he smirked up at her as he used one hand to tweak her nipple and the other to rub once at her clit. "Have a seat."

Pushing up so she could reach down and grab hold of his cock, she positioned the tip of him so he was just barely inside of her. She could feel the heat radiating from him, and she met his eyes as she braced her hands on his chest and slowly sunk down onto him.

"Oh fuck," his mouth dropped in a gasp as his hands flew to grip her hips again. Hermione hoped there would be bruises tomorrow – she secretly loved them. "Fuck, you feel so good like this."

His eyes took her in hungrily, heatedly as she started to bounce on him. "And, fuck, if you don't look good like this," he said as his thumb rubbed slow, tortorous circles on her clit. "Such a good girl, riding me," he cooed.

Her head dropped back at the praise and she couldn't bite back her moan, nor did she want to. "Oh my god," she whined. The ridges of his cock were hitting that one spot inside of her that made her want to– Oh. "Fuck, just like that," she breathed.

"Yeah, you like that?" he asked, fucking up into her. "Just–" thrust, "like–" thrust, "that?"

"Yes," she said, "yes, yes, yes–" the words were blending together and likely made very little sense. She was bouncing faster, sweat running down her temple. "Please." The spring inside of her was tightening to an almost painful extent.

She was so close, she just needed– something. Theo drove into her harder, keeping the angle the same. "Come on," he said, rubbing her clit quicker now, "come for me. Let me feel you. I need to feel you."

"Theo–" her head dropped back as the coil inside of her grew so hot it snapped. "Oh fuck," she gasped, clenching around him as she exploded. He groaned, fucking her through it, pulling her against him to run his tongue around her nipple. "Yeah, that's it, that's a good girl."

As she caught her breath, he flipped her again so she was on her back and he was on top. He was still deep inside of her, and she wriggled at the sensitivity, canting her hips up to take him in deeper. He brought her legs to rest over his shoulders and she gasped at the change of angle. "Feel good?" he asked, giving a light thrust.

Still experiencing her aftershocks, she knew she was still tight. "Too good," she responded.

His returning smirk was devilish. "That's what I like to hear. Been wanting to do you like this for a while." His thrusts gradually sped up, and she was quickly turning back into a pile of mush.

"Yeah?" she asked on a breath. "Why didn't you?"

"Don't know," he said, "just never got around to it. We had a lot of other positions to get through first." Theo grinned down at her.

His thrusts sped up. Hermione was starting to feel the familiar wildfire spread through her again, and it was burning through her nerves. "Theo," she whined, "please. Make me come." Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingernails digging into the muscle there.

"Fuck, you're gonna come again?" he asked.

She nodded desperately up at him, feeling the fire encapsulate her more entirely. "I'm so close, please," she begged.

He brought her hand down to where they were joined, and she took the hint. "Come on, come for me again. Give me another, I know you can," he commanded. He watched as she rubbed at her clit, and that was all she needed. She tightened around him, back arching as she came.

Theo followed shortly after, burying his head in her shoulder and pulsed inside of her.

They both collapsed, and worked to catch their breath as he pulled her against his chest.

As she came down from her post-orgasm glow, she looked up at him with wide eyes. "What?" he asked.

"We forgot to silence the room."


Staring into the burning embers of the fire while draining the remainder of his Firewhisky, he did his best to tune out the sounds of his roommate shagging his best friend.

As he drained his glass and then conjured another, he grimaced at the harsh taste of it as it stung his taste buds and made his vision swim. This time, he welcomed it.

He knew he could silence the common room, or her room, but he felt that he deserved to suffer through this – as weird as that sounded.

Having his revelation this late into their schooling, he realized he didn't have much time to reconcile his feelings with what he knew was fact.

Fact: Granger tolerated him, nothing more. Her speaking at his trial was nothing more than a show of good faith, and a miracle he didn't earn that would keep him out of Azkaban.

Fact: He'd antagonized her, called her the worst slur in their world for the better part of six years. He still remembered vividly how her face had flushed red and screwed up in anger as the insult rolled off his tongue.

Fact: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger only knew how to exist as rivals, enemies, adversaries. They had just barely been able to get along, mostly due to her insistence to having a good year. Who was he to argue with that?

Fact: Hermione Granger didn't and would never have feelings beyond contempt – or, at best, tolerance – for Draco Malfoy. And he was going to have to accept that.

Now, did he have to accept that by listening to his best friend fuck the brains out of the girl he liked? No, but Draco very much prided himself on being a stubborn, dramatic, masochist. So, while it could be construed as weird (it was), he thought of it more as personal atonement before he could even attempt to move on with these new, foreign feelings.

He didn't move from his spot in front of the dying fire until the sounds faded, desperately wanting his shoddily buried feelings to die alongside the embers.


Hermione was unbelievably groggy at breakfast the next morning. Dropping her head into one of her hands and groaning, she used her free hand to fumble for coffee with one eye open. Ginny took one look at her and silently poured the drink for her.

"Rough night?" Ginny asked, clearly bemused.

"You have no idea," she muttered, screwing her eyes shut against the lights. Reaching into her pocket, she retracted a hangover potion. To be fair, she could have taken one this morning, but she'd discovered long ago that mixing it with her morning coffee sped up the process.

As Ginny opened her mouth to say something else, the sound of flapping wings and screeching filled the air, making Hermione wince. They dropped an identical letter in front of Hermione and Ginny both, which she struck as somewhat odd.

Following the Battle, she'd received an influx of mail – both positive and negative. There were the ones that warmed her heart all the way through, like the ones from little girls who said they wanted to be just like her one day.

The other side of the coin was the death threats she got from the pure-blood supremacists who had refused to believe that they were the ones in the wrong. Some of the letters had been filled with Bubotuber pus or dragon's blood – a thinly veiled threat at her own being spilled. It had gotten so bad that McGonagall had taken to filtering her mail beforehand. Hermione was grateful, but Merlin was that embarrassing.

Turning her attention to the mysterious letter in front of her, she opened it, eyeing Ginny curiously to see what hers was.

In big, bold, cursive letters at the top it read, 'Spill the Tea.'

Confused, Hermione quickly skimmed the letter.

Dearest readers,

You don't know me, but I know you. I know all of your secrets, good and bad, and especially the ones you don't want me to. That's what makes it fun, I think.

Don't worry – we really don't need any more trauma, so none of this will be life ruining...

Unless, of course, you provoke me. Which I obviously do not recommend.

Maybe this will prompt the lot of you to actually start to pretend to like each other this year. Merlin knows we need a little bit of sunshine and daisies in our lives.

Let's start the year off interesting, shall we? My vote is yes, and we all know that my vote is the only one that truly matters here.

Spotted: Roger Davies and Tracey Davis snogging by the Black Lake. At least if they ever wound up getting married, they wouldn't need to change their last names. Hey, at least the bloody war (pun completely intended) has made inter-blood relationships more acceptable in society.

At least, we hope so.

Anyway, this relationship has all of my support, but you know I had to...

Spill The Tea.

Veritas

As her eyes trailed around the curve of the 's' in Veritas, Hermione stared at the parchment as the words melted away before her eyes. As she looked at it in shock, another set of words appeared on the page.

If you wish to submit a tip, write it on this parchment. I will determine whether or not it is deemed worthy.

After she'd read that, the words disappeared once again. Hermione was blown away. The charmwork on the paper was impeccable. The way the words were spelled to disappear as soon as the reader was through with it was ingenious. Clearly they didn't want any professors to get wind of it – or, at least, have access to any physical evidence.

"Wow," Ginny said. "Well, this is new."

"You're telling me," Hermione said, surprised. "I can't say I saw this one coming."

Propping her chin in her hand and taking a long pull from her coffee, she said, "Maybe this is what we needed." She looked pensive, staring aimlessly across the Great Hall.

Hermione looked up at her, confused. "What makes you say that?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the tips of Tracey's ears turning pink as she stared at the Slytherin table while Roger, who looked irritated, left the Great Hall without giving Tracey a second glance. As she tuned her ears in, she caught wind of some of the whispers.

Honestly, it really wasn't that groundbreaking of gossip in Hermione's opinion. People hooked up and broke up all the time. It was most likely the fact that they were exhibit A of 'Spill the Tea' and the news that introduced the gossip fiend.

"Well," Ginny said, "I think that if they're actually being serious about not including any life-ruining gossip, then I think this could make the year interesting." She shrugged. "I say as long as it's harmless and all in good fun, I honestly don't see a real issue with it."

Her eyes narrowed a touch. "Harmless? I think all things with potential for harm start out like this. If they're really some... I don't know, benevolent person who's trying to bring people together, there certainly have to be better ways than this," she said as she tossed the piece of paper down to the table.

Ginny gave a noncommittal, one-sided shrug as she chewed a piece of bacon. "I don't know, I think it could be fun. But I guess we'll see if it's actually what they say it'll be."

Hermione sipped her tea, running her fingers across the blank parchment. Taking a quill and inkpot out, she dipped her quill in and let it hover over the page. The ink dripped onto the paper and she watched in awe when it disappeared as it made contact.

Genius. She couldn't help but marvel at the sheer complexity of it. Quickly scanning through the list of people who had returned to Hogwarts this year, she easily eliminated anyone below sixth year. There was no way that anyone below that skill level could master charmwork like this.

Hm. This would be a project that needed further examination. She might consult Draco, since they were head boy and head girl after all. Plus, she begrudgingly admitted, he was only second in their year – after her, of course. Yes, he would likely be the best ally in figuring out who this 'Veritas' really was. Until then, everyone was a suspect.

"I guess we'll see indeed."