A/N: Dramoine via "Pretty Girl" by Sugarcult
Draco found himself comfortably tucked into bed. A familiar green quilt was spread over him. The warmth was pleasant, and he dismissed his hallucinatory adventures as merely a nightmare probably caused by poison in his pumpkin juice. Damn house elves. He started to drift back to sleep, but he noticed an odd sensation. He was snuggled against, more like beside, a body still hidden by the blanket. He frowned as soft musical notes filtered in through invisible speakers. Draco grumbled aloud about vindictive house elves, and the mystery sleeper stirred. Female curves leaned into him. His curiousity brushed brown hair from her face. Hermione Granger's face, peaceful with relaxation, smiled up at him with closed eyes. He didn't know how his favorite late-night fantasy found her way into his bed, but poisoned-pumpkin juice or no, he was damn well going to enjoy it. He leaned to kiss her, but lyric-vomit came coursing through his mouth.
Pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything. Pretty soon she'll figure out what his intentions were about. Unlike his last pretty-boy performance, Draco's voice was mellow and calm. Hermione opened her eyes. The lazy contention on her face turned to, dare we say, longing. He trailed his fingers along her jaw. And that's what you get for falling again. You can never get him out of your head. Hermione tangled her fingers in his blond hair and blushed innocently as the sheet slipped to reveal the top of lacy pajamas. Draco swore under his breath. And that's what you get for falling again. You can never get him out of your head. He really hoped that this despicable song-vomit would stop. It was interfering with his ability to seduce the fiery witch under him. She had been driving him crazy with a rivalry rife with sexual tension for years now. If she weren't friends with Scar Face, he was certain he'd have shagged her long before now. Her pink lips looked kissable. It's the way that he makes you feel. So kiss he did. He half expected repulsed rejection because of this twisted poison. But she responded with zest. She tugged him closer. It's the way that he kisses you. He let his hands skim her sides. He was so close to groaning when she arched her body into his. Close, but he refrained. A Malfoy can't be that easy to please. They do have standards, after all, even when sleeping with a (feisty) Mudblood. It's the way that he makes you fall in love. Love? Draco thought. This damned pumpkin poison has barely made me consciously acknowledge that she evokes anything but hatred and disgust. He shivered. Love. The look in Hermione's eyes could have been love. Draco was good at most things, er, everything. Including interpreting the facial expressions of women. He was quite convinced that the vile substance he'd ingested (because the thoughts that he was (a) not perfect and (b) he hadn't actually been poisoned had never crossed his mind) had stolen some of his superior awesomeness. She's beautiful as usual with bruises on her ego, and killer instincts tell her to be aware of evil men. Not me, not me, not me, he chanted in his mind. And that's what you get for falling again. Hermione's eyes looked less amorous than moments before.This stupid Muggle song, that wasn't all that good anyway, was ruining his moment. You can never get him out of your head. He put on his best I'm-a-sex-god expression. He refused to be bested by Muggle anything. It's the way that he makes you feel. Hermione pulled him into a hug. She whispered something against his neck, but he couldn't make out the words. He didn't care. Her breath was warm and seductive. It's the way that he kisses you. It's the way that he makes you fall in love. She kissed him again. He was glad that he was given reprieve from lyrical nonsense. Too soon it returned. Pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything. This song was getting on his nerves. He could see calculations whizzing through Hermione's brain as she seemed to realize just whose bed she was in. Pretty soon she'll figure out you can never get him out of your head. Things were not looking good. The fiery temper was returning to her eyes. It's the way that he makes you cry. He felt like his soul was being bared in a way that he never admitted to himself and continued to deny. I'm good for her, he challenged. It's the way that he's in your mind. I don't hurt her. I'm not a taunting voice in her head.It's the way that he makes you fall in love. A tortured love surrounded by hate. The cruelty of this pumpkin juice made him swear off beverages. Hermione faded away. He flung himself back into the pattern of oblivion.