Woot! Svelte Rose won second place at the Dramione Awards in the category of Story Art with her banner for The Bracelet. Go Svelte! Told you that you were awesome, love.


Hermione gaped at the vile Slytherin, who made a lumpy seat – also known as Draco Malfoy – for a second, before she began sputtering.

"Are you completely out of your mind? How do you think Nott will react to you acting this way?"

"I am guessing – and hoping – that he will be pissed off," Draco calmly replied.

"He will be pissed off at you," Hermione pointed out. "He knows I don't want to be here!"

"So?" Draco asked. "Why should I care what he thinks?"

"Obviously you do or you wouldn't be trying to make him mad." The hand that was still on her waist to steady her tightened uncomfortably and Hermione gasped. "Ok, now you are in violation of the contract," she said with a grimace.

He blinked and loosened his grip. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Just please shut up and drink your firewhiskey – without drowning yourself."

He proceeded to ignore her in order to talk to his housemates instead. Hermione was still subject to a lot of odd looks, but she quickly found that the more of the foul-tasting firewhiskey she drank, the less she cared. When her glass was empty, someone filled it for her. It was really uncanny. She had to suppress a giggle at the thought of the uses of a self-filling glass of firewhiskey. Of course, by this time, she was on her third glass and even she had to acknowledge that she might already have at least halved her IQ.

She tried to keep an eye out for Nott, but Draco had positioned her so she had her back to the entrance, and the third time she twisted to look in that direction, he sharply reprimanded her, telling her to sit still.

He was such a killjoy.

Having been thwarted in that endeavor, Hermione resigned herself to watching the room. She was somewhat surprised to realize that even Slytherins seemed to loosen up and have a good time in the confines of their own common room, but then again – why wouldn't they? She supposed they were sort of people, too.

She deliberately avoided looking in Pansy's direction, though. She was sort of surprised that she hadn't made a scene yet, but then again, Draco would clearly not appreciate if she did, in spite of it being warranted. He was always such a bully, provoking people and then trying to control their responses. Sipping her drink, Hermione thought she could almost pity Pansy for being Draco's girlfriend. Only almost, because it wasn't as if Pansy was forced to date him. In Hermione's opinion, she should just dump him well and good and be over with it.

She suppressed a yawn and fought not to shift in her seat. She was sitting sideways, as far out on Draco's knees as he would permit, and it really wasn't the most comfortable of positions. Her buttocks were growing numb and her lower back was aching a little from the strain of sitting straight instead of just leaning down towards him. As a way of distracting herself from her own discomfort, she took another swig of her glass, before grimacing.

Where was Nott already? She surreptitiously tried turning enough to glance at the entrance again.

"I thought I told you to stop that!" Draco growled.

Hermione pouted. "Well, it's not as if you're a comfortable seat!" she huffed. "I was hoping Nott would get here soon."

"First off," he said, "who gave you the idea that Theo getting here would save you? And second off, that's his name – Theo. You've snogged the bloke, start using his bloody name!"

"I think that's between him and me, don't you?" Hermione retorted.

"Wrong," he instantly contradicted her. "There is nothing between him and you, as you so adequately proved earlier today. When you talk to me, you will use his name."

Hermione pulled a face at Draco's highhandedness and decided to ignore him in lieu of her drink. It still tasted like evil liquefied, but she really did like the effect it had on her. It made her feel almost… serene. She grimaced again as she swallowed another gulp. It had actually gotten better; it didn't burn so much anymore.

"How much have you had?" Draco asked as she took yet another hearty swig.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," she muttered. "It seems to be a bottomless glass."

She giggled at the thought of the self-filling, bottomless glass and Draco began looking slightly alarmed.

"You shouldn't drink any more of that," he said, reaching for her glass, but she held it out of his reach, surprising him.

"Don't you dare!" she said. "If I have to endure this, I want to be drunk."

"I doubt you need to drink more to achieve that," he drily commented.

"I'm not drunk… yet," she said. "I'll let you know when I am."

"I don't want you vomiting all over me just because you can't hold your liquor."

She snorted and swayed slightly, causing him to instinctively support her lest she topple to the floor. How the hell had he missed just how much she had imbibed?

"Listen, Granger," he said in a low voice, while carefully securing her. "You're supposed to be smart. Is getting smashed in the middle of a flock of Slytherins really that clever?"

"What can they really do to me that you won't do, anyway?" she asked, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Fuck the contract, you'll find a way." She drank again.

Draco blinked. He didn't think he'd ever heard Little Miss Perfect Head Girl use such coarse language before. He also found it hard to decipher her mood as it was all over the place because of the drink. Perhaps he shouldn't have made her drink alcohol in her current condition. He reached out and firmly took the glass from her, ignoring her objections.

"You won't drink any more firewhiskey tonight," he said. "You'll thank me in the morning."

At this she bitterly laughed. "Thank you, Malfoy? You have completely ruined what's left of my time here at Hogwarts and, as you said, the bet is only half done. I should be so lucky as to be in a drunken stupor for the second half!"

He wearily closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He wished her feelings weren't all pouring out at him so strongly; it was taxing. "I thought you said you weren't a quitter."

She didn't reply but merely scowled and looked away. He rolled his eyes and allowed her to sulk for a while, focusing his attentions on his housemates, who were all ecstatic that he'd caught the Snitch and eager to tell him so. He did notice the puzzled glances at Granger, but he chose not to address it and, so, neither did anyone else.

After all, he had definitely earned some leeway today.

After a while, the feelings of resentment and anger subsided and Granger began looking thoughtful, even smug. That couldn't be good. It wasn't until he felt the amusement in her, however, that he responded.

"What are you plotting?" he suspiciously asked.

She blinked as if she had been far away. "Nothing…" she innocently replied.

The feeling of amusement increased.

"You're plotting my demise, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said.

"Liar."

She shook her head. "Your death wouldn't really punish you but rather those around you, wouldn't it? Sure, it would bring some satisfaction, but as revenge it's largely ineffective."

He stared at her. "Then what?"

A dreamy smile spread across Hermione's features. "I was thinking about sending you into a coma for years and years and then your children—" She broke off and frowned before mumbling, "Crud, no children. Not any chance that Pansy is pregnant, is there?"

"Not likely, no," Draco choked.

"Oh, well, there's Muggle ways…" her voice trailed off.

"Excuse me? You're planning on putting me in a coma and impregnating Pansy?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically almost falling down again, forcing him to tighten his hold on her. "And then when you wake up in years and years," she continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she could hardly stay steady, "you will realize that Pansy has left you for another wizard, your children – or at least child – grew up without you ever knowing them, and your grandchildren are almost grown as well. Then you will come home, try to reconnect… Oh, bother, now it's turning into a Hallmark movie…" She frowned again.

"A what?"

Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "Anyway, you will fail and then you will die – old and alone."

Draco was beginning to feel some amusement himself. "Are you sure they didn't put you in the wrong house?" he asked. "I never knew Gryffindors to be so vindictive."

"I will, of course," Hermione continued, not paying any heed to Draco's comments, "have forgotten about your existence many years before that, while making the world a better place, surrounded by my own loving family."

"It's good to know you have a plan," he said.

"Yes, isn't it?" Hermione said with a contented sigh, before hiding a yawn behind her hand.

Draco shook his head. He didn't quite get it, but it seemed that Hermione's little fantasy had put her in a better mood. She really was a bloodthirsty little thing, wasn't she? He had to admire the complexity of her 'plan', though.

She squirmed again and he stiffened and scowled at her.

"I thought I told you to stop that!"

"I'm uncomfortable," she whined. "I'm tired, my back hurts and you're lumpy. Haven't you soon proved your point?"

He glanced over at Pansy, who had her back turned to them and was animatedly talking to someone. He knew her better than to think she wasn't furious, though. He didn't really much care about her confronting Hermione – in fact, he thought that it might actually prove quite entertaining – but it just didn't seem like good sportsmanship to allow it to happen while the Head Girl was this inebriated.

"If I let you go now, you're bound to have an accident on your way back to your dormitory."

"I can handle myself!"

"Maybe you can… when you're sober. Right now, you wouldn't stand a chance against anyone. Since I'm not in the mood to walk you back, you're going to stay put and stop complaining… and stop squirming!"

Hermione abruptly stopped trying to adjust her position and glowered at him. Could she really be that naïve? Did she honestly not recognize all the reasons why it was not a good idea to squirm around on a bloke's lap? He didn't really want her there anymore than she wanted to be there, but since he'd put her there, he might as well follow through. It would hardly kill either of them.

"If you behave, I'll leave you alone tomorrow," he offered.

"And what about the day after that?" she grumbled.

He groaned with exasperation. Was nothing ever enough for her? "Tomorrow," he growled. "Take it or leave it."

Of course she took it. Even one day was a respite she couldn't turn down, and it would bring her one day closer to getting the bracelet off.

Being quiet, sitting still, and in other ways trying not to annoy Malfoy were, however, not the most thrilling things she had ever done. It was late, she was tired and she had had too much to drink, so after a while she began nodding off. She violently jerked awake and once again nearly toppled off Draco's lap. He sighed irritably and forced her to settle further in. She scowled at him for a while after that, but since he was just ignoring her, she soon drifted off again…


Hermione slowly came to. She fought consciousness, but, in the end, she lost. She was huddled into something nice and warm and there were a few voices around her. Voices? She opened her eyes but had to swiftly close them again, as the world was spinning a bit too quickly for comfort. Her mind was fuzzy, and it took her a few moments to realize where she was and why, and even then she couldn't bring herself to care, even though she had a vague idea that she should. She was so tired. She should probably move or give some indication that she was awake, but she just didn't feel like it. Who knew how long she'd been like this anyway?

She slowly opened her eyes again, covertly watching the room around her. Most people must have gone to bed already, because only a few were left. Of course, Malfoy hadn't given any indication of wanting to leave or, even better, allowing Hermione to leave. It was odd that he'd let her sleep, though. Perhaps he didn't need her to be sentient for his scheme, perhaps he just needed her to be there.

There was no sign of Nott. Either he had already been there and left again, or he had yet to make an appearance. She sort of hoped for the latter.

She fought down a yawn. If she yawned, he'd know she was awake and she'd have to move. She did not want to move. She did not care that she hated the person she was currently curled up against; she was comfortable for the first time all night. Her ear was pressed against his chest and she heard it rumble when he spoke or laughed. It was funny. It reminded her of when she was a child, curled up against her father, when they were out late.

It was different, though. Something was off. Something was… strange. She supposed it was because he was not her father or even someone she could call a father figure. He was even younger than her as far as she knew. He was also not someone she would normally trust, and she certainly didn't like him. Even in her fuzzy state she still recognized this.

But it was something else.

Then she realized. The hand that was supporting her back was not just supporting her back. His thumb was rubbing slow circles on the exact spot that was sore from her earlier straining. She didn't think he even realized. No, she knew that he did not realize. He must be able to tell that she was sore from the bond between the bracelet and the ring, and be reacting instinctively to try and soothe her discomfort.

How strange, considering how hard he'd been trying to add to her general discomfort. She wondered if the magic was somehow affecting him. Well, if he suddenly decided to be nicer to her, she certainly wouldn't complain. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. She had said that she was not a quitter, but she was really only inches away from a breakdown.

The funny thing was, he didn't seem like he enjoyed it very much when she was depressed or upset. It seemed like he, on one hand, wanted to do the damage, but, on the other hand, he didn't want to feel the effects.

Hermione covertly glanced up at Draco's face. He was talking to someone on the other side of him, not paying any attention to her at all. It really was as if she was a child or a pet asleep on his lap. The person he was speaking to left and Draco turned his head slightly and looked straight into Hermione's eyes.

She supposed she was busted now, no more pretending to be asleep.


Before I get spammed: Yeeeees, we will see Nott in the next chapter. Bother me too much and I will kill him! Ok, maybe not, but... yeah. Anyhoo, preview:

Hermione rushed out of the room, feeling shocked and mortified at what had just happened. Draco didn't feel sorry for her, he was sure that in some way, she was to blame for the whole thing.

Belatedly, he checked who had seen this little incident, and he had to suppress a groan. A good handful of people that he didn't know particularly well had seen as well as Theo and Blaise. A quick scan of the room told him that at least Pansy wasn't present.

"Pansy saw," Blaise interrupted Draco's perusal in a tight and angry voice. "She ran off to her dormitory. Why would you be doing that to her?"