"I don't really feel like going." Hermione's voice was muffled by her pillow as she whined.
"You're going. It's the last of the term and you're going." A soft pile of clothes landed on Hermione's back as Ginny lofted garments her way.
Truthfully, Hermione could think of nothing she'd rather do less. Parties were never really her forte, and she was far from the Christmas spirit now, not to mention her throat was feeling rather...scratchy. On top of it all, her row with Malfoy had left her in an exceptionally bad mood.
When she turned and saw the blouse Ginny had chucked her, she nearly choked on her own saliva. "Ginny, you're fucking mad. I'll wear a jumper."
"You are not wearing a bloody jumper, Granger. Get that adorable arse up—the Puffs await."
xXx
The party was alright, certainly not the worst party Draco had ever been to and the fizzing red drink was spectacular—not that he'd admit to such things.
Blaise was prattling on and Goyle was already fucking wasted; Draco'd give it fifteen more minutes then he was gone.
Who the hell did Nott think he was, anyway? The conversation seeped into the rest of the evening and glowering, he drained the rest of his drink and filled his cup with another. Where did he get off thinking that Draco had a thing for Gr—
The fizzing bubbles caught in the back of his throat and he hacked and sputtered violently as the object of his dismay sauntered into the Hufflepuff Common Room and everything else in the bleeding world ceased to exist. She was wearing—well, Merlin, the witch was wearing something black and sparkly and he could see her bloody collarbone. It was obscene.
Sure, every witch in here was wearing something decidedly less, but they weren't Granger.
As his coughing ceased, he craned to see around a group of witches to see her again. She looked fit, more than fit, really.
"Your positively drooling, Malfoy," Blaise crooned, his sly mocking voice causing Draco to sneer even as his arm wound around his neck.
"Piss off," he spat, shoving his friend away.
Just then, Theo appeared, stealing a kiss from the witch in question and Draco's lip curled.
"I hate Theodore Nott."
Blaise barked out a laugh. "You didn't seem to much care either way about him until about two weeks ago when he started shagging Granger. Curious, isn't it?"
Draco bristled at the implication that Granger had spread her thighs for Nott of all bleeding people."Quite."
When Nott dipped his mouth next to her ear, arm wound tightly around her waist, Granger laughed and her gaze flickered over to where Draco stood.
His heart leapt in his chest when her cheeks darkened.
And then, just like that, he realized the painful truth: he'd gone and fallen for Hermione Granger.
xXx
"He's looking again." Theo smirked, a dimple appearing on his left cheek.
Heat climbed up her neck and she shook her head. "And I told you, he seemed clearly chuffed to spend his time Bea."
Despite the way she willed herself to stay locked on Theo, her gaze drifted. To him. To him, with his infuriatingly handsome face—that was at the moment twisted into a pained grimace. Her breath hitched and her skin felt all at once fevered.
"Hermione, let's make the rounds before you swap spit with Nott. I want to get some to grab some refreshments before they're gone."
Nodding, Hermione was tugged from Theo's side and they were soon weaving through the crowd that had gathered in the Hufflepuff common room.
The fizzy red drink was delightful, as were the cauldron cakes and the chocolate tarts. Soon, Hermione was laughing in close quarters with Ginny and Luna, sucking chocolate frosting off her pointer finger. She'd been so lost in a good time that she'd nearly forgotten about the snakes slithering around the room.
"Granger." His low drawl halted their laughter and all three of them turned slowly in the direction of the newcomer. "I need to speak to you in the corridor—head's business."
Ginny snorted, her lips curling in a mocking smirk. "Both heads are at a party; what on earth could you be chastising someone else for?"
Hermione clucked her tongue at her friend, feeling all at once queasy, before turning to follow Malfoy through the party. A younger student bumped into her, causing her to stumble and while Draco pulled a face, he opened his body towards her, his hand coming down to rest on her lower back.
Merlin, his hand was too hot, searing through her blouse as he guided her forward. All she could think about was the way he felt pressed up against her and the way her skin flushed even now.
This party could cause claustrophobia in the most brazen of Gryffindors and as they stumbled through the door and into the chill of the corridor, Hermione shivered. Her blouse wasn't conducive to such temperatures and though Malfoy had already begun his anxious pacing, she felt the shroud of a warming charm fall over her.
"What's happened?" Clearly by his state, something was actually wrong and she bristled as she watched him, his finger waving through the air as he silently rehearsed his speech. "Malfoy!" He stopped, turning towards her sharply. "What on earth is wrong?"
"I don't want you dating Nott. He's a prick."
A sharp, disbelieving huff shot past her lips and she groaned. "Did you really call me out here because of this? Where's your date, anyway?" Jealousy curled unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach.
"I don't have a date. Told her I was done with her ridiculousness earlier this evening, I'll have you know." Tilting his chin in the air as if he'd somehow done her a favor.
"Bea?" Hermione's brow arched and her lips came into a tight purse. "You guys looked awfully cozy earlier if I remember correctly. Funny how quickly things change."
"Fuck, Granger. What exactly do you want from me here? You set me up with the twit and I had to make her think I liked her—which I did. I can't help it she sat in my lap? What would you have had me done? Stand up and dump her on the floor?"
Hermione grumbled under her breath, a barely audible, "yes" in the midst of her displeasure, another shiver inching it's way over her spine.
"I don't want you to date, Nott."
"Well, I don't want you to date, Bea-bloody-Beaucomb."
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
Malfoy growled and his pacing resumed as he dragged a hand through his hair. "You drive me insane, you know that?"
"Yeah? Well you're completely intolerable. If I'd have known you were going to be completely inappropriate during this ridiculous bet, I'd have never set you up with someone like Bea."
"Inappropriate?" Draco deadpanned, his features wilting into a sneer.
"Yes! All of your—well, your… canoodling! It's not proper."
"Theo Nott has had his tongue in your mouth, Granger. I hardly think canoodling —whatever the bloody hell that is—can be considered inappropriate."
"What is your problem with Theo? He's perfectly—"
"I don't like him!"
"Alright… but so what if you don't? If I do what's the problem?"
Malfoy's cheeks darkened and he halted, reeling on her with a glower. "The problem is—" But he stopped, swallowing the words that were just barely about to push past his lips. Everything about him seemed to sag, his features transforming slowly. "The problem is nothing. I just want out of the bet, Granger. Make me do whatever duties you want—I'm done."
Before she could stop him, he turned on his heel and stormed off and around the corner. She was about to give up, to relent and return to the party and her friend's company, but something inside her snapped.
xXx
Fine. Granger was into Nott. Draco had made his proverbial bed and would sleep in it. Alone.
That was that. Whatever bloody feelings had up and sprouted could presently wither and die. After all, if he was forced to look at the situation as it were, Theo was the better choice. He was calm and quiet, not hot-tempered and mean-spirited, not to mention an ex-death eater. Theo would probably listen to her ramblings in the library with more dutiful attention than Draco ever prayed to possess. And Theo wouldn't tarnish the golden girl's reputation by being seen on her arm. So, he supposed, that was that.
"MALFOY!" His name rang clear down the hall, reverberating over his skin and his hackles rising at the sound of the witch of his bleeding nightmares howling after him. He froze mid-step—waiting. The sound of her heavy-footed stomp made his lip curl and he turned slowly.
"You bellowed, Granger?"
"Yeah, I did." Huffing, she stopped short in front of him, cheeks flushed bright pink and eyes dancing in what appeared to be wild rage. But then her gaze drifted to his lips and he foolishly allowed himself room to hope. Sucking in a hard inhale, he remained otherwise silent. Still waiting. "I'm sick of you storming off when I'm not finished with you."
"Well, then you need to stop doing shite that makes me—"
Whatever words he'd been about to speak had been smothered by her lips, her fingers curling in his jumper as she lifted onto her toes and kissed him firmly—insistently. His thoughts quickly vanished as a hum slipped from her lips and—Merlin, he was kissing Hermione Granger.
Well, as it stood, Hermione Granger was kissing him and he quickly set to rectify the issue at hand. His hands rose to cradle her jaw, burying his fingers in her riotous curls and he fervently—no, reverently—kissed her in return.
This was what drowning felt like; not a violent fight for his life, but one in which he had completely and utterly succumbed to his fate: sinking, letting go of everything he'd been pushing against.
Too soon, she broke the kiss off and they were both panting, sucking in greedy breaths as their noses bumped together. He thought maybe she'd seen reason, perhaps realized the error in her ways and thus decided to hex his bollocks from his person once and for all, but—it was something else entirely.
Her eyes were a bit glassy, her lashes fluttering.
"I'm—" She swooned a bit, melting into him. "I'm too hot."
With a furrowed brow he studied her more closely. Under different circumstances, the words I'm too hot would mean something entirely different for Draco but given her rather strange disposition, he had a feeling it meant something else. Cradling her cheek, he inhaled sharply. "Granger, you're burning up. Are you ill?"
She sniffed, nose wrinkling as her weight dipped a bit. "Absolutely not. I don't get sick. I'm just a little warm… and dizzy… and my throat feels rather tight."
Of course, the bloody witch was sick. Had she not been so intent on snogging Theo Nott she'd have heard his many warning about the Black Cat Flu.
"I think—" She paused to cough. "I just need to sit down a minute." But then, her body went limp and he rushed to scoop her in his arms before she collided with the dungeon floor.
And so, for the second time, Draco Malfoy was responsible for carrying this impossible witch to the infirmary.
xXx
Hermione woke with a splitting headache, the light pouring in through the infirmary windows nearly blinding her. Everything ached, even her very skin, and she rolled onto her side in a vain attempt to avoid the sun, only to find a blond prat snoozing in the chair by her bed.
She thought she might wake him, but her fever seemed intent to pull her under again. Lashes fluttering, her vision waned and turned dark and she fell back asleep.
xXx
Nott.
The stupid prat had the audacity—the audacity— to walk through this door like… well, like he had any right to at all. Which as far as Draco was concerned, he did not. Yet, still, here he strolled, ugly fucking face and a book in hand. Although, Nott did give Draco the extreme pleasure of gawking at the sight of him at her bedside.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Theo returned to his jaunty fucking stride, coming up to the bedside and brushing a curl off Granger's temple.
A growl rumbled deep in Draco's chest before he remembered a fun detail he could bestow upon his newest nemesis. "I'm here because after we were done snogging last night, Granger fainted. I can't say it's because of my expertise at snogging witches, but it's quite possible."
With a watery snort and a roll of his eyes, Theo sat at her bedside. "Or because she has Black Cat Flu, you wanker."
Well, he'd certainly not been expecting Nott to be so fucking blase about the fact that his witch had been kissing Draco the night before, and the fact that he seemed so unaffected only served to rile Draco further.
"Did you not hear me? I said I was snogging—"
Theo lifted his slender fingers in the air and waved him off. "I heard you, Malfoy. Are you so stupid you haven't picked up yet that I'm not into witches? Why on earth would I tell you that you were making a mistake with Granger if I actually wanted to keep her all to myself? For being such a smart bloke, I have to say, you're fucking dense."
The confession slammed into Draco and he blinked several times as he tried to make sense of the words. Nott didn't like witches; he didn't like Hermione Granger. Which meant that not only did Nott perhaps like the attention of wizards instead, but also that the pair of them had been fucking cheating on the wager while Draco had been forced into Bea Beaucomb's blithering company.
"You knew? That's not fair!" Draco's voice began inching up octave by octave and he was only silenced when Pomfrey stuck her frizzy grey head out and shhh'd him with a pinched expression.
Theo shrugged, only then deeming Draco's existence worthy of a glance. "Did you state in the rules that the other person couldn't be aware of the arrangement?"
What a fucking prat. Of course, that'd been in the rules but just as his jaw fell open ready to rip the dolt a new one, he realized they hadn't precisely specified such a clause and his eyes widened into saucers. "Well it was implied!" he finally spat after a moment of fraught silence.
Rolling his eyes, Theo sighed and returned his attention to Granger. "Implied rules don't count to proper Slytherin's or Gryffindors. All's fair in love and wagers, ay mate?"
Draco wanted to be furious, it was the most natural progression of his ire, but he couldn't bring himself there. Because as much as he had detested every bloody minute spent in Bea's company, this turn of events meant that Granger had not been dating—or sleeping—with Nott, and for that, he sighed in relief.
"Why don't you go and shower and rest?" Theo offered. "I'll stay with her until you get back."
"I'm not leaving her with—"
With a loud groan, Theo reeled on him. "Do you think maybe you could stop being so bloody combative? It'd sure make the rest of the term, or however long Granger decides to keep you in her good graces, a lot easier on me. We're friends, her and I, and I have no inclination to stop being friends with her. So the sooner you stop making everything so bloody impossible, the better."
Draco was...speechless. Which was not something that he often was, nor did he care for it. And he would fight Nott more on the subject if he weren't so tired and in desperate need of washing the germs of spending a night in the infirmary from his skin.
And despite the fact that Theo had kissed his witch, he was right. Draco had really made a mess of it all by putting Theo and Granger in such close-knit quarters, but it seemed rather unavoidable now. So, for as long as he was yoked to Granger, he would also be yoked to Nott as well.
Joy.
"I'll be back in two hours." The disdain for Nott's very existence waned and he lifted his bag onto his shoulder, sparing a final glance at Granger's relaxed features and sweaty forehead, before making to leave the hospital wing. He'd made it a handful of steps before turning back. "Oi! You could have told me you preferred wizards! I've changed in front of you!"
Theo choked on either a gag or a laugh and shook his head. "Please, Malfoy, don't flatter yourself. Bony blondes are the furthest from my type. I'd rather shag Granger than look at your tiny—"
Draco's hands flew up as if he could swat Theo's words from the air and he turned sharply on his heel to storm from the infirmary, ignoring the snickering coming from the Slytherin left behind.
xXx
A/N: Well! Just one last chappie to finish up this story coming in soon! Thanks for joining me on this teenage silliness! Mwah mwah!
As ever, this is unbeta'd, please forgive the horrendous errors. I'm a dodo at best. Thanks to MCal for her Alpha eyes and giving this a once over before it came your way!
Until next time!