Since his birthday, Hermione had started using his first name–it just felt right. Hermione decided she rather liked the way Draco seemed to roll off her tongue. Draco, of course, still called her Granger, but she didn't mind. Though he did like to tease her and called her Two-Bits every so often, when she felt the need to give him her opinion on things he wasn't in the mood to hear.
After his birthday confession, Hermione tried to keep their meetings light; they'd talk about Healer training and she'd tell him stories of people who came into Saint Mungo's (Draco nearly choked on his scotch when she told him about the patient with the cactus growing out of his rear). They discussed Muggle books and movies a lot as well. Hermione was glad that Draco had grown to appreciate the world he grew up ostracizing.
She was also happy to find out that Draco didn't sit at the bar all day poisoning his liver. From what Hermione could tell, he'd get up, fix himself breakfast, work out (he was noticeably more muscular and not as thin and pale when they'd first started meeting each other), then he'd run errands and do whatever. Draco would spend the rest of the day reading Muggle literature, and watching television. Apparently, he watched his "stories" religiously. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm for Muggle soap operas.
"So this guy raped this girl years ago, and then they fall madly in love and decide to get married," he explained to her one day, "but at the wedding, this older woman who hates the guy shows up, dressed in a turban, and puts a curse on them, but it's a Muggle curse!" he said rather amused. "It didn't do anything! So they drove off into the sunset together," he said with a wry smile as Hermione mumbled something about Professor Quirrell under her breath.
One evening Hermione arrived at the Paradise Lost as per usual and went over to Draco, though she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
"Good evening, Draco." The second Draco opened his mouth, Hermione's feeling was confirmed.
"Why hello there, Granger! I'm so glad you're here. Sit down and have a drink!" Draco was three-sheets to the wind already. Ever since they had started having drinks together, Hermione never saw him drunk; nowhere even close to it. Something was definitely wrong.
"Looks like I've some catching up to do," she said to him and picked up her drink.
"Oh Granger, Granger, Granger," he said, "I don't think so. I could drink you under the table any day."
"Or counter," she replied, which made him nearly fall off of his stool doubled over in hysterical laughter.
"Touche!" he exclaimed. "That was good Granger. You know," he said finishing his glass, "I never would've thought you were funny. All those years in school you were so, serious," he said, making a "serious" face at her.
"Any reason why you decided to get drunk tonight?"
"Why not?" he replied.
"I mean tonight in particular," she clarified. His face hardened.
"I'm rebelling," he told her.
"Rebelling against what?" she asked.
"My old life," he said as he lifted up a fresh glass, "Cheers." He downed the entire glass and let out a long, refreshing, (annoying) "Ah". After he was done he turned to her. "Hey Granger, how come you always wear your hair back?" Leave it up to an inebriated Draco Malfoy to bring up the subject of Hermione's hair.
"It's easier to deal with when it's back and it's supposed to be out of my face for Healer training. Sterilization and all," she explained.
"Well, I think you should talk it down when you come here," he said, "I miss the bush." She rolled her eyes at him. "You know Granger, you're not the most glamourous,"
"Gee, thanks," she said stiffly.
"But nevertheless, you're quite beau–" he paused and proceeded to sneeze into his glass, spraying the contents on the counter and then dropped the glass on the floor. Draco sat there looking dumb (and drunk) while Hermione went to pick up the shards of glass. Was he really going to say she was beautiful? Hermione began racking her brain for other words that started or sounded like "beau" as she tried to clean up the glass.
"Dammit!" she yelled, shaking her hand.
"What's thematter?"
"Nothing." Draco was drunk, not blind, so he noticed the cut on her hand.
"You hurt yourself, Granger." She told him it was nothing. "You're bleeding," he pointed out as he held her bloody hand.
"It's just a flesh wound, I'm fine. Really Draco, I am a Healer in training after all."
"Oh yeah," he seemed to forget that little tidbit but still didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he grabbed some napkins. Draco proceeded to clean the blood with much care and attention. He was very gentle and when he was finished, Draco kissed Hermione's hand. "All better now."
"Thank you, Draco." Hermione checked her watch. It was getting late, but it was a Friday so she didn't have training in the morning, which meant she could stay out late.Hermione didn't want to leave Draco there at the bar in his condition, but she didn't know where he lived. He had only mentioned that it was down the street; which way, she had not a clue.
Hermione sighed and got up. After she collected her things, she offered him her good hand. "Come on Draco, let's go." He took her hand without question as she led him outside until he stopped short.
"Wait, where're we going? The liquor's in there!" he said, pointing back to the Paradise Lost.
"You've had enough liquor, Draco. Let's go for a walk." He held her handand followed herdown the street. Perhaps if they wandered around long enough, they would somehow end up at his place and she could make sure he was alright before leaving him.
"Hey Granger, you like the Beatles?" he asked her.
"Yes."
"So do I. Though I must say, that is such a strange name for a band."
"I never thought about their name, Draco."
"I'll take you to see them," he told her, "just the two of us!"
"Draco, the Beatles don't play together anymore," she told him gently.
"What! Don't tell me they broke up!"
"Well," Hermione wasn't quite surehow to tell him that not every member of the Bealtes was currently living.She didn't have to say anything though, as Draco had begun to sing.
"When I find myself in times of trouble, Her-mi-oh-ne drinks with me, speaking words of wisdom, let it beeeee." He continued to butcher the words to Let it Be as they walked. Finally, Hermione had had enough.
"Come on Draco, I'm taking you back to your flat." At this, he took the lead and pulled her down the street, only walking in a slight zig-zag. "Is this the way to your flat then?" she asked him. He assured her that it was. "Good because we need to get you to bed–"
"So we're finally going to do it, eh Granger?" he said enthusiastically. Hermione froze but Draco kept on walking and she nearly tripped trying to keep up with him.
"What did you say?"
"We're finally going to have sex," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. "It's about damn time, all this sexual tension between us in the past."
"That's not what I meant when I said 'get you into bed.'"
He paid her no attention. "We can even play Healer and patient if you're into that sort of thing Granger," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "I must say, I've wondered about you," he told her, "more than once."
Author's Note–That's a good place to end it, don't you guys think? Sorry it took me so long to update, I wasn't feeling too well last week.Then it took me a few days to actually upload this onto the site. The next chapter will hopefully be up early next week. I started out this fic intending it to be a Drama, but right now I think I am leaning more towards Romantic Comedy. Let me know what you guys think. Is it too much?