Professor Arlidge was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Head of Gryffindor House and she was (in Hermione's not so humble opinion) brilliant. She was a Muggleborn witch from the States and she was not afraid to advertise the fact. She often wore denim jeans with t-shirts and white sneakers. She made her classes fun, interactive and interesting. She was one DADA teacher that Hermione hoped would be around for many years to come.

Professor Michaels, the new Transfiguration professor, on the other hand, was a bore rivalled only by Professor Binns. However, it seemed that most of the female students (and some of the male ones too), were happy to forgive him for being so dull because he was so dashingly handsome. Perfectly styled light brown hair, tortoiseshell spectacles pushed high up on his nose highlighting bright blue eyes, French accent and outfit complete with a bowtie every day, one could get lost looking at him even if they could not get lost in the lesson he was providing. Hermione was not immune and had also fallen victim to his eyes on occasion.

Hogwarts had been back in full swing for two weeks now and her birthday was fast approaching. As she had missed out on celebrating her eighteenth birthday, Hermione was considering having a small soiree in her dormitory for her nineteenth. Which meant clearing it with the person she shared it with. Draco had been aloof since their first few days back. Hermione wasn't complaining, though. He was sticking to the bathroom schedule and there had been no more naked incidents, he was doing well in his role of Head Boy, going on patrols and submitting reports on time. Hermione really could not complain about his performance. As someone who shared her living quarters, he was a little messier than she cared for, but the house elves were always on top of that, so again no real reason to complain. She didn't see too much of him outside of classes and prefect meetings and she was starting to wonder if he was purposely making himself scarce. So she had decided to corner him when she knew he would be in their office.

"Malfoy, there you are," she said as if she hadn't known he would be. He looked up from the report he was filing. "Here I am, Granger. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Saturday night."

"What about it?"

"Well, you see, it's my birthday and I was hoping to have a few people come to the dormitory to celebrate it with me if it's alright with you?"

"Ah, yes. Your nineteenth birthday. Tell me, Granger, am I one of those people who will be celebrating with you?"

"If you'd like to be, yes," she nodded, surprising him. "Did you think I was going to kick you out of your own living quarters? Don't be daft! Of course, I'd like to have you there - if you think you can be civil to my guests."

The right side of his lip pulled upwards in an almost smile. "I promise to try. May I invite a guest or two of my own to help balance out the smell of Gryffindor?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the absurdity that Gryffindor had a smell. "Yes, Malfoy. Invite a few friends if you wish to add some extra Slytherin into the mix," she said with a smile.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight but his face betrayed no such action. "Fine, then. It's settled. We will host your birthday party at our dormitory on Saturday evening. Is there a theme or a dress code I should know about?"

"Uh, er, no," Hermione said, caught off guard. The thought of a theme had never even crossed her mind. "No, no. Just your standard teenage party, I guess," she continued with a shrug. She'd never had a standard teenage party. Every birthday she'd had as a teen had been spent at Hogwarts or on a hunt for Horcruxes.

"Ok, fine," he said nonchalantly bending back over his paperwork. What the fuck does one wear to a standard teenage party? He thought to himself as he pretended to be absorbed in his report.

"Ok, great. I guess I'll just start sending out some invitations. Did you want me to add anyone to my list or will you take care of it?"

"I'll take care of it," he said with his head still bent over the parchment.

Hermione rather felt that she had been dismissed. "Ok, great," she said. "I'll... I'll just see you later then," she said as she left the office, closing the door behind her. With the door closed, Draco dropped his head to the desk, lifted it back up and repeated the process several times. Each time his forehead made contact with the solid wood, he uttered a word. "You. Fucking. Idiot. Malfoy!"


After Hermione had sent her precious few invitations, things had started to spin out of control. She had wanted a small party with her nearest and dearest plus the inevitable presence of some Slytherins. Somehow, word had gotten out that there was a party to be had on Saturday and that none other than Harry Potter would be in attendance. Hermione had found herself agreeing to request after request for an invitation. In the end, she resigned herself to almost all of the seventh and eighth year students being in attendance. She drew a line at anyone she didn't know or anyone who was under the age of seventeen. She would not have underage wizards and witches at her party. George had declared himself 'the bringer of fun' and told Hermione to expect the drinks to be on him. Head Girl Hermione had protested at first, but Birthday Girl Hermione who just wanted to feel normal for once had caved on the subject. Besides, this was her living quarters, she was more than of age, she knew all of her guests to be responsible and strangely trusted Malfoy to keep his under control. This was her party, dammit and she wanted to have a good time - within reason. She had even sought permission from McGonagall to have the party, though she may not have mentioned the alcohol aspect. So, with permission from the Head Mistress, Hermione had descended to the kitchens to talk to some house elves about supplies for the party. She pressed upon them that she wished to put the snacks together herself, but they refused this request. They promised her a smorgasbord of party foods and told her to think nothing of it, that they wished their war heroine and champion the best of birthdays. With a sigh, Hermione resigned herself to preparing the dormitory for her guests.

Saturday afternoon rolled around and Hermione found herself throwing outfit after outfit out of her wardrobe and onto her bed in frustration. Why had she not considered what she would wear any earlier? Luckily, Luna and Ginny had arrived an hour early to see if there was anything they could help with. They had barely wished Hermione a 'happy birthday' before she hauled them up to her bedroom and beseeched them to help her put something together. Ginny quickly sorted through the clothes strewn over the bed while Luna directed Hermione to a chair and began to play with her hair, pulling it back and pinning it in places Hermione would have never considered. While Luna played with Hermione's hair, Ginny used her wand to create a makeup glamour on her face, humming and haaring while she made adjustments. As Hermione caught sight of herself in the mirror, she had to gasp. Luna had pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail, curls escaping at her temples and on one side of her neck and Ginny had glamoured Hermione's face into something sexier than Hermione could ever achieve on her own. As she looked in the mirror, she pulled at a stray curl and touched a finger to her smokey smudged eye. "I'm not sure about this, you guys. Isn't a bit much?"

Luna thought it over while Ginny dismissed the idea. "Not when you pair the look with the outfit I picked out," Ginny told her, gesturing to the only outfit left on the bed. Short denim skirt, white sneakers and Hermione shrieked "Ginny! What have you done with my Weird Sisters t-shirt? That was a gift from Viktor! Repair it right now!"

"No way," Ginny said shaking her head, red hair flying. "Crop tops are all the rage right now, Professor Arlidge told me so!"

"Yes, but it looks like you've just used a shearing jinx on it. It's uneven and ragged!"

"And sexy," supplied Luna.

"In a completely casual, who-gives-a-fuck manner!" Ginny added.

With a harrumph, Hermione pulled the clothes onto her body and did not wish to admit it, but her two closest girlfriends had managed to make her feel like a normal teenager attending a party. Exactly what she had hoped for. "What do you think?" Ginny asked watching Hermione turn this way and that way in the mirror.

"It's ok," she said. "I look nothing like me, which is actually pretty cool," she said.

"Mmmhmmm," Ginny said tapping her foot impatiently.

"You look really good, Hermione," Luna told her, twirling the hem of her floral dress through her fingers.

"Ok, I kind of love it," Hermione admitted to Ginny's triumphant face. "You guys did a great job and you both look really amazing, too!" Hermione grinned. The three girls linked arms and made their way down to the common room, giggling at the efforts to get down there while staying glued together.

The common room had been completely transformed with a food and drink station pushed against one wall, the lounge suits and chairs all clustered into one corner and a large space cleared in the middle of the room for dancing and mingling. Streamers and balloons were scattered all over the place in red and gold and the number 19 was graffitied all over the walls and floors in gold glitter. "Oh, dear Merlin, who did all of this?" Hermione gestured to the room in general. "Isn't a bit much?" Hermione asked her friends.

"I think it looks great," Luna said as she picked up a balloon, floating it from one hand to the other.

Malfoy chose that moment to emerge from his bedroom, holding the fanciest wireless system Hermione had ever seen. He did a double-take as he saw Hermione standing there with Ginny and Luna. "Granger, you uh- you look - er. Happy birthday," he finally managed, cheeks pink.

"Thanks, Malfoy," she smiled. Cheeks equally rosey at the almost compliment. "Any idea where all of this came from?" she gestured to the room as he placed the wireless on the fireplace mantle.

"Must've been the house elves," he replied, pink cheeks darkening. He tapped the wireless with his wand and as the music started blaring out of it, Ginny and Luna exchanged a wide-eyed glance. Before any more could be said, the fireplace lit up and George stumbled out, carrying a bag full of bottles.

"Granger," he kissed Hermione on both cheeks. "Happy birthday! Little sis," he pulled Ginny into a one-armed hug before he set the bottles onto the table with the butterbeer. "Lovely Luna," he smiled at her and nodded at Malfoy with a questioning look thrown back to Ginny. "That'll be Harry," he said as the fireplace was lit with green flames once more. As Harry stepped out, he congratulated Hermione on her birthday, hugged Luna hello and pulled Ginny to his side as if he hadn't seen in her in months instead of weeks. The secondary portrait of Anne Boleyn that sat above the fireplace announced that there were several students outside wishing to be allowed in. "I'll get it," Draco said wishing to escape the awkward display of affection that Harry and Ginny were currently engaged in.

Within moments, the common room that Hermione had once thought spacious was full of people wishing her a happy birthday and then clamouring on to say hello to Harry. Students of every House all crammed into the room, seeking out the most advantageous place to plant themselves as fire whisky, butterbeer, mead and spiked pumpkin juice made the rounds around the room. Moments later, the music became louder and people found a rhythm. There were many people on the dance floor, others had sequestered themselves to the seating area and others were discovering the delicacies created by the house elves. Hermione looked around the room and felt a small thrill go through her. Her party was packed to the brim of friends enjoying themselves as more people arrived through the Floo network. She caught sight of Angelina Johnson in an embrace with George in a dark corner, she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Her party was a raging success. She turned in a circle, searching for Luna. Ginny was busy talking to Dean and Seamus, tucked under Harry's arm on one of the lounges.

Before she could find Luna, Draco found her. "Tell me, Granger. Are you having a good time?"

"Yes," she said breathless from dancing, she took a long swig of her butterbeer.

"And if Weaslebee happened to show up, how exactly would you want to respond to that?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Like I couldn't give a single fuck because I'm having the time of my life and he can't ruin it for me."

"Good to know, because he's heading this way," Draco nodded over her shoulder.

"Fuck," Hermione cursed. She shoved the butterbeer bottle into his hand, took his glass of fire whisky and downed it in one. "What should I do?"

"Act like you don't give a fuck because you're having the time of your life?" He gave her own suggestion back to her.

"How?" she pleaded.

"Kiss me like you know your ex is in the room?" The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. As her eyes widened, he forced a harsh laugh out of his mouth as if he had been joking.

She must have been seriously affected by the fire whisky because she licked her lips nervously and said "Good idea."

"I- what?" Draco couldn't get anything else out because she had grabbed him by the neck and pulled his face down to cover his lips with hers. Fire laced through his veins that had nothing to do with the whisky. Despite this, his first instinct was to put his hands on her shoulders to gently push her away. This wasn't a good idea at all, despite what she had said. But as he applied the pressure to her shoulders, she clung tighter to his neck.

"Please?" She whispered against his lips.

Well fuck, he thought as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, hands slipping off of her shoulders and settling on her waist. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. And it was nothing short of magical. With their tongues dancing, her hands reached up and into his hair, tugging just enough to be painful. She started to pull away, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth as she did so. He held her closer for just a moment longer. Kissing Hermione Granger like this in a room full of people was nothing but a recipe for disaster, even if it had been his most recent Granger related fantasy. The fire whisky had emboldened him to openly suggest his personal fancy to her and the reality was a shit storm waiting to happen. A moment later - too soon, too soon, his brain screamed in protest, they pulled away from each other to find not only Ron but everyone else within a three-metre radius staring. Panic was starting to set in, he felt it in himself and he recognised it on her face. "Happy birthday, Granger," he said loudly, signature Malfoy smirk in place as he melted back into the crowd.

"What the fuck was that?" Ron questioned angrily, spinning Hermione by the shoulder to face him. "Did you do a full one-eighty? Have you gone crazy?"

"What, Ron?" She responded, pulling him to a quieter corner of the room, where slightly fewer eyes and ears could overhear their hushed argument. "You broke up with me. What did you think? That I would just sit around and wait for you? I'm good already," she seethed. "So moved on it's scary," she grabbed, quirking an eyebrow and grabbing another fire whisky off of a tray floating by on its own.

"With Malfoy?" he hissed at her, ears tinged red.

"No," she said with another shrug. "Not with anyone in particular but if you don't wanna see me dancing with somebody, don't show up, don't come out and don't start caring about me now."

"'Mione, this isn't you, I don't know what's gotten into you!" he placed a hand on each of her arms and squeezed lightly.

"Aren't you the guy who tried to hurt me with the word 'goodbye'?"

"No - I never wanted to hurt you," he said, voice softening. "I never wanted that."

"Stay if you wish, but I have nothing more to say to you tonight."

She took a sip from her glass, gave him a meaningful look and started to slip away. He caught hold of her hand. When she turned back to look at him, he had a sad smile on his face. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

"Walk away, Ron. You know how," she replied with and disappeared back into the throng of dancing teens.

This time, she found Luna immediately. "Some people are saying that they saw you kissing Draco Malfoy. I told them that they must be imagining things, but they're insistent and they didn't have very many Wrackspurts around their ears, so they weren't confused, but what a nasty rumour. Though, he is kind of dreamy, don't you think? He was always kind to me at the Manor," Luna said as if her stay there had been some kind of luxury holiday.

Hermione groaned. Kissing Draco had felt like a great idea at the time, a wonderful way to get back at Ron for the hurt he had caused her but she had stupidly not thought of the ramifications. Merlin, how would she ever live this down? And also, where did Malfoy learn to kiss like that? Hermione brushed her fingertips over her lips before answering Luna. "It isn't a nasty rumour, it happened. I wanted to get revenge on Ron when I learned he was here uninvited, so I kissed him. It was dumb, really, really dumb and a horrible thing to do, but I can't take it back now. Unless you think I can obliviate everyone here?" Hermione joked.

"I think it might be easier to let the rumour die down on its own," Luna twirled in time to the music. "That would require an awful lot of magic. Dance with me, Hermione. Isn't this your favourite song?" Hermione stopped to listen for a moment before breaking into a grin and joining Luna in dance.

Several hours later, the table of food and drink was seriously depleted, several people were passed out on the lounges or the floor and almost everyone else had used the Floo to get home or stumbled their way back to their dormitories. Ginny nervously approached Hermione in a manner contradictory to the amount of mead she had consumed. She tapped her on the shoulder. "Harry would like to stay the night at Hogwarts... I could take him back to the Gryffindor common room but well, it wouldn't be very private and as you know, boys can't enter the girls' dormitories, so erm, we were wondering if we could stay in your room?"

Hermione who was well under the influence of spiked pumpkin juice by this point believed she said: "Yes, sure, no worries. But you'd better Scourgify the sheets in the morning!" What she had actually said was "Yesshure, mmmmf. Scourgifffffffff eeets mmmm," with an enthusiastic nod that Ginny took to mean 'yes'.

"Thanks 'Mione," Ginny said with a kiss on her cheek. She took Harry's hand and led him up the staircase.

"Goodnight, Hermione. I had a lovely time. Did you know that you're a little bit drunk?" Luna waved cheerfully, happy to be the last one awake to leave the party and make sure her friend had enjoyed her evening.

"Gooooshnit Loooona," Hermione grinned, waving goodbye.

When the common room was cleared of guests who hadn't passed out, Hermione found herself in search of a cool glass of water. "Warta, warta, warta," she chanted as she created chaos on the beverage table.

"Here, Granger," Malfoy placed a tall, cool glass of water in her hand.

"My hero," she managed before slurping the liquid and spilling half of it down her front.

Draco managed half a smile at her comment but was more concerned about her state of drunkenness than anything else. "Come on, Granger. Let's get you to bed," he said attempting to lead her to her bedroom.

"Can't!" she said surprisingly clear.

"And why not?" he asked, seriously considering using his wand on her as she fought tooth and nail to go in the opposite direction.

"Harreee n Ginnee," she pointed upwards, making obscene gestures with her hands.

"Didn't need those visuals, Granger," he grimaced.

"Welcome!" she chirped, heading back towards the drinks table.

"Oh no, you don't," he grabbed her and swung her up into his arms and over one shoulder.

"Shit, Granger. You eating all those books you read, or what?" he asked making slow progress up to his bedroom, to which she responded with a delighted giggle. He plonked her down on his bed and took her shoes off. This was certainly not how he had visualised having her in his bed for the first time, or any time for that matter. Shoes off and discarded on the floor, he drew the blankets over her body and tucked her in.

"This isn't my bed," she declared, as she grabbed a spare pillow to snuggle into.

"No, it's not," he grumbled, transfiguring his armchair into a chaise decent enough to sleep in. He attempted wrestling the spare pillow from her, but her grip on it had been surprisingly strong. Plus, if he was being honest, she looked adorable with her mouth slightly ajar and curls spilling over his pillows. "Fine. Keep the damn pillow but if you vomit in my bed, you won't hear the end of it!"

"Mmmmph," was her only response.

Grabbing a cushion and a spare blanket from the chest at the end of his bed, Draco resigned himself to a very uncomfortable night. The most remarkable witch he'd ever known was in his bed while he was stuck on a transfigured armchair. Life sure was dealing him a bad hand of late. Eventually, though, he had drifted off thinking of her lips on his and his hands on her thighs as he carried her up the staircase.

Don't Start Now - Dua Lipa