Author's Note; Sorry for the very long delay! I changed the name of the fic because I don't think it properly represented the flavour of what's to come! Thanks for your patience xo!

Chapter Five: No Sympathy For The Devil

Time is a strange thing.
A day can feel like a century in certain circumstances, while a month can feel like five seconds in others.

Hermione was experiencing the latter tonight, disillusioned from the very long morning she had.

She was going to a giant, ostentatious affair. Cozy was her comfort zone, her only hope was that she wouldn't be tacked into spotlight coming with a rich, handsome CEO that seemed, to her, out of her league. There were bound to be far more 'famous' attendees. Since Harry had declined the invite, perhaps she could fade into the background, the less scrutiny the better.

On top of all this constant worrying, she was extremely horny.
Blaise and she had done the deed three times the night before. After such a dry spell, she'd wanted to keep going, and possibly never quit. But he insisted they get 'beauty' rest, which was a good idea in retrospect. Very tiredly, he'd woken her up to leave at 9 am, reluctantly waiting until the last minute so a quickie was out of the question.

The routine consisted of a massage, a pedicure and manicure. She couldn't relax because she was exhausted and wasn't used to having such a lavish expense presented to her so easily. Not to mention the wax to her under arms, legs and bikini line had created a constant dull ache, though she had to admit she did feel more confident than normal; grooming really does make a difference.

With only a salad for lunch (to keep a prim figure, apparently), she sat to get her makeup and hair fixed for three whole hours, and then was swooped away for a dress fitting. Another three more.

And now they sat in a limousine on their way to downtown London, to a place called Magdalen House. It was on Tooley Street, near City Hall and London Bridge Train Station. It was not too far from the Ministry as well she noticed as the River Thames was reflecting light up through the tinted windows. Coming closer and closer in her vision, the bustling bridge became larger the further they got to their destination.

Glancing back to her date she smiled, trying to remember her midnight escapade instead of her nerves. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored pinstriped suit, black. The only standout detail for his outfit was a forest green tie, matching the colour of her dress, a sleeveless sheath cut.
Combined with an outrageously elaborate bun, calculated tendrils framing her face, and platform heels, the entire exhausting routine made her more sophisticated than she felt.
Leaning into him, she noticed he smelled absolutely divine. The reaction to her ensemble was immensely gratifying given he had insisted on the whole process. In certain words, as she was revealed, Blaise had promised her a repeat experience of the night before when they got back to their hotel room, just down the block. All part of the affair, she supposed. Honestly, if there wasn't so much effort spent into her look, she would've instructed their driver to go there right now.

There was a possibility it was the lust talking, but as they arrived, Hermione was convincing herself she could play with the elite tonight. Uncertain if there would be other nice classmates there, she was sure she would be forced to converse with elegant Slytherin's she had nothing in common with. That also meant that nobody friendly would be watching her and judging her, so she could easily pretend. Blaise said himself that he was going out of spite, to get hammered. Mocking the host, though petty, was something she surely could do. Mocking the other guests too, as she knew their circle were proficient at. Didn't the pessimists of the world say that finding something to hate was easier to unite with somebody else than finding similar interest?

Maybe this whole endeavour won't be so bad, she mused, uncrossing her legs to be escorted out of the car. They were led by the valet to the front entrance of an old nondescript building, notably quite larger compared to the rest in the area.

"Quite a bit of security, don't you think? Wonder if Malfoy is a bit nervous," Blaise chuckled in her ear, nodding to the many bouncers in formal attire as well as several police cruisers lying in the street.

They gave their invitation in, got crossed off the list, and were swept into a wizard-only elevator, top floor. In a secret red room, a few Ministry officials took their wands for storage, lectured them on the presence of muggles, the severity of making magic known, and led them to the next check point.
"Up the stairs please, sir, miss. Sorry for the inconvenience." An eager boy in a uniform greeted them as they were done with their wands, away from the wooden hallway to an emergency exit.

Blaise glanced at Hermione with a raised brow before swooping through to the outside, immediately biting back any insult he was ready to say.

The night sky was dazzling, absolutely breathtaking. The moon was so full, you could easily get lost in it had you leaned over the railing to watch it glow.
Dim paper lanterns strung along across the roof, creating a cozy, intimate mood as the only light source. The party space was expansive and flooded with patrons, every one of them dressed to the nines. Magdalen House was connected to the office building next to it, elevated by a floor, stairs joining them for accessibility. The far end was enveloped by a transparent marquee, the end where Hermione stood open-air. Couches were sprawled everywhere, orchestral music seemingly swallowing them whole from every angle. As Blaise led her along to find friends in a daze, she noticed waiters holding trays of food, and bars in nearly every corner.

"What a good job Pansy has done," Blaise muttered to himself. He could never give Draco the credit of actually pulling it off well.

It was a tasteful grandiose that neither Hermione nor Blaise had expected. Shocking most, for Blaise, was that a Malfoy, what with simply looking at their disturbingly large manor, could create something so comfortable with the volume of the people attending.

Shocking most to Hermione, something that literally stopped her in her tracks, was who she spotted when she noticed Draco. Standing in his company, talking with familiarity and genuine interest, was Narcissa Malfoy to Mick Jagger.
There were several others beside him in the circle, but Hermione was fixated on the rock legend before her, barely surrounded by security. Only recovered from the awe noticing the smug look on Pansy's face, who looked bloody fantastic, sipping her champagne.

"What's wrong?" Blaise questioned a bit worried at her expression, paranoia overwhelming him that she was stunned at Malfoy's appearance, who he deemed sub-par with a boring grey suit.

"Do you know who that is?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"That wrinkled decrepit ghoul?" he replied perplexed, causing Hermione to gasp.

"That's the lead singer of one of the most famous muggle bands of all time! The Rolling Stones?" she begged, feeling so out of place and disappointed he didn't care.
Maybe he was actually jealous, Hermione felt some envy brewing inside of her right now. How in the hell did Draco manage to pull this off? He probably doesn't even care he is here, or appreciate who he is.

"Never heard of them," he dismissed, resenting how impressed she was. "Look, there's Theo over there."

She switched her vision to the right as he dragged her to his familiar social circle. The walk seemed to take ages as more and more faces registered to her as they pushed through the unorganized queue. British royalty were here, the younger generation: Princess Eugenie and Beatrice of York. Various has-beens of British music and film past were talking as if they were regular people. Up and comers too, pretty models with their representation.
Ministry higher-ups were chatting with muggle politicians, Hogwarts alumni with random guests. Several men and women stood out, framed by the posse surrounding them who almost worshipped them it seemed. Designers, Hermione assumed, considering the business ventures of Draco.
This whole situation was extremely bizarre, and Hermione admitted that she now understood why it was a dangerous line to tow including magic and the rest of the world in one drunken place.

Now daunting, the Slytherins all stood gazing back at she and Blaise, waiting for them to get closer. Hermione snatched a flute of champagne and chugged it in one shot from a passing server, then took another for good measure, just so her hands wouldn't fidget. She could never let them see her fazed.

"Pansy did some job, eh?" Blaise quipped as he reached his mates, smiling with snark.

"I said exactly the same thing," Theodore chuckled in response, puffing on a cigar, ready to pull one out for his boss.

"Oh, come now. It's really nice," Daphne mused, looking around again at the venue. "Everyone looks so glamorous."

The clique continued their critique of everyone around them, gossiping about both their clothing and prowess. Whenever a female looked for assurity that she was much better looking, Hermione earnestly nodded her agreeance, both confusing the ladies and pleasing them. The boys were already a few drinks in, Blaise had to catch up, and only liked to comment on the people they found ugly or annoying. Again, Hermione would add a simple 'yes', or a small titter when required, trying her hardest to win them over.

"I just love what Pansy is wearing. God, she's so lucky. Starlet of the evening, isn't she? Draco had to show everyone he knew what he was doing. I told you he wouldn't fuck it up especially with her along for the ride. And her boyfriend is quite the dishy - oh shut up, Theo." Hermione tried not to giggle for real as Theodore growled his disdain to Astoria's remark, covering her lips with glass.

Hermione moved her view back to the apparent centres of attention to make her own verdict. She did like what Pansy was wearing; she found her whole look really appealing, really daring. With unfathomably high black heeled shoes covered in spikes, she was wearing a strapless dress; a heart shaped bodice that billowed out into an ankle length skirt. It was a shocking pink plaid, but it did not swallow her whole, it wasn't loud.

Her hair was sleek and straight, make-up very minimal, with a simple gold chain around her neck . It struck Hermione as odd that she never realized how beautiful her old rival was, adolescence was kind to her.

Now she was feeling quite unfit in this company again. The edgy, sexy ensemble something she could never pull off in a million years. And it didn't help that Pansy was standing with a very handsome man. Curly dark hair, a strong jawline, he had the perpetual look of being content. He was wearing a matching pink suit with a dark blue shirt underneath. And delightfully, black oxfords with spikes. They looked great together, and she knew she and Blaise didn't have that same effect. They weren't that openly romantic; Blaise was too reserved, and Hermione too scared to show her affection because most people didn't approve of them. She kept getting a very closed off vibe from Daphne in particular.

"Yeah well, maybe you would've gotten the opportunity if you'd been after his cock for ten years," was the jab from Lucian, to which the group all snickered. Hermione found it too rude, so she hid her reaction by draining the rest of her drink.

"Nevertheless," Astoria cut him off, waving out a finger, "I want to know who the designer is. And sink my hooks into her….I gather it's that redheaded woman in that flashy bedazzled jumpsuit but – "

"Vivienne Westwood," Hermione interrupted, unable to stop herself. Instantly she shot her hand to her mouth, as if she'd broken some social rule.

"How do you know that?" Daphne asked with narrowed eyes.
All Hermione could think was that these girls hated not being on top of everything worth noting. They liked having all the answers.

"She's a muggle?" Hermione tried. "Common knowledge, she's really quite famous."
She was lying. Though Vivienne was well-known, she doubted if any of her friends or even her mum knew any designer's name, European or not. It was actually printed online, in various fashion blogs. She'd been looking up Draco along with his party plans in the muggle-sphere the past week. In an attempt to uncover his intentions on the sly, hating that he'd be newsworthy, that his parents could now know his name. So far it was all praise.

Of course she couldn't admit that she was snooping to Blaise, or anyone here. They'd likely just tell him and he'd be gratified she gave one ounce of fuck about him.

"Hm," Daphne responded, skeptical of this newcomers information. "Okay then, what's Pansy`s sex partners name?" she asked to everyone else, knowing Hermione wouldn't have an answer.

"It's Sergei," Blaise muttered, giving Daphne a warning look, to which she grimaced and turned towards her sister. Hermione was being perfectly nice, and not too much so.
Blaise deliberated if she might be envious, she'd wanted to date him not long before he'd been with Miss Granger.

Adrian shrugged at Hermione apologetically; she merely nodded.

"I'm getting a drink, you want something?" Hermione told Blaise, escaping the gossip to request a delectable poison. Already feeling the strange churning sensation in her stomach of drunkeness, she'd eaten nothing since 3 and it was now nearly 10. It was on the itinerary to get sloshed out of her mind, and she knew it would be the only way she could be remotely comfortable given how Blaise's little troupe had responded to her in the first fifteen minutes.

"What can I get you?" A dazzling witch with sleeves of tattoos asked Hermione politely.

"A scotch on the rocks with a twist….and anything strong that tastes good," she replied with an embarrassed sigh.

"Tough crowd?" the bartender sympathized. "Yeah, that lot doesn't take well to strangers, I'm afraid."

"You know them?" Hermione asked, now interested, leaning over the counter. She didn't clue in until now that of course the Malfoy's would hire magical staff.

"Ooh yes. All the, ahem, Slytherin crew hires us for their events," she winked after checking if anyone Muggle was around. "Our company mixes some special ingredients in the liquor so it's extra good, if you know what I mean."

Though she'd never drunk anything with magical properties before, she did have the gist.
"As in, relaxes you?"

"More like…creates a gentle euphoria. They asked me not to use any of our unique blends tonight, but I have some anyways just in case we run out of regular, and we might considering the attendance number. I'll get some for you."

"I'm not sure if that's a great idea," Hermione mumbled, the phrase 'wet blanket' repeating over and over in her head. It felt like substance abuse, she was going to ingest something that altered her mind state.

"Trust me, Hermione, and yes I know who you are," she laughed at her blank surprise, "those girls will be relentless. I don't know you personally, but you're probably ten cuts above them in terms of kindness. Blaise is a generous tipper and a hot date, but he's only in a good mood if he's the host. He probably won't be Casanova until the end of the night. So you need to being able to just giggle at their idiocy. It will piss them off and probably make them respect you, actually."

"Well….." she paused.
Did Blaise go to lots of parties with Astoria? Hermione naively asked herself. How could this girl know that he didn't get romantic until the end of the night if she hadn't seen it many times? Perhaps he wasn't so truthful about the women he'd been with.

This was too much for her brain right now.
If ever there was an alternate universe where Hermione could choose to be a different person, now was the opportunity. Might as well get crazy.
"Alright, give it to me before I regret it."

"Excellent." Mixing magic gin with juice in a tall glass, the end result was an eerie glowing purple. Hermione hoped nobody would notice, but since most were focused on Pansy, she was probably paranoid. "It's not very strong, promise. Have fun."

"I may be back later," Hermione grinned, feeling giddy as a school-girl cutting class for the first time. "You're now my favourite person at this party."
The bartender saluted her and laughed.

Feeling extremely naughty, Hermione took a gulp. The taste was incredible.
So she took another.

"But that old man….."

And another.

"…should go find out who he is."

And one more.

Hermione returned to the circle to Flora Carrow wondering about the existence of Mick Jagger. She handed Blaise his glass.

"Somebody A-list, no doubt."

"Yeah, look at his total ten of a date. No way he's an average Joe, has to be loaded with those trout lips."

"Hermione knows, don't you?" Blaise asked, placing his arm around her, mildly proud of the petty fact she knew her stuff tonight. His hand on her shoulder was not comforting to her.

"Of course she does," Daphne noted, rolling her eyes.

Miles passed a look to Adrian, who bulged his eyes in confusion. Obviously, Daphne was not normally this outspoken. Or bitchy, Hermione smiled to herself.

"I really like what you're wearing," she then blurted out, unable to handle all this awkward tension. She'd said it to Flora, who appeared taken aback and suddenly self-conscious.

"T-thanks?" Flora was sporting a simple black cocktail dress, and classic black pumps. Nothing special.

Hermione continued to babble about everyone's outfits and hair, earning looks of bewilderment from the ladies who rarely got treated nicely by the same gender, while the boys all smiled at her amusing display of diplomacy.

"OH, It's Mick Jagger by the way, the fish faced man over there."
She pointed and both Adrian and Miles chuckled. "He's in one of the most famous British bands of all time. Muggle, of course."

God, this drink was affecting her. And it was not at all weak. She felt her body buzzing, her senses tingling; the music more intricate and conversations more audible. She couldn't stop talking.

"Are you okay?" Blaise whispered in her ear, she was vibrating slightly under his touch.

"Oh, just fine," she replied. "I hope he performs tonight, even if he's alone."

"What band is he from?" Miles asked, curious as a lover of Wizard rock.

"The Rolling Stones," she exclaimed, to no recognition. Instead of frowning though, she grinned again, more glazed than her normal genuine ones. "They're really great."

Blaise swallowed the remnants of the scotch and tried to curb her silliness.
"If you're so excited about him, let's go say hi."

"R-really?" Oh my god!" Hermione clapped excitedly, Lucian Bole sniggering a vulgar comment to Eric LaVoix at her glee. Blaise pretended he didn't hear it, Hermione actually didn't.

"None of you lot have gone over yet?" Blaise checked. Everyone shook their head. "Draco's probably 'too busy', what an arse. Some host, hasn't welcomed us yet and he actually knows us from school."
His clan had no words, not wanting to get on his bad side, and continued on about muggle celebrities they didn't recognize.

As they strode over, Blaise continued to mutter obscenities while obtaining another stiff one. Hermione's stomach filled with butterflies and inadequacy washed over her again as she took note of how ridiculous and amazing they all seemed in the spotlight. The few photographers in the place were snapping away at them constantly, even the Wizarding ones.

"You're seriously alright though?" Blaise inquired again, not understanding how she could be so out of it this early.

"Mmhmm. Trust me, just trying to be nice."

"Glad to hear it. Think you scared the women with your humanity, usually they are all relentless monsters."

"Kill them with kindness," Hermione mumbled.

In this instance, Hermione was actually so happy Blaise had plenty of ego and self-confidence. Because her voice managed to leave her the minute she saw Malfoy's eyebrow pique up and the smirk splay over his face at the sight of them. And then he waved.
All eyes zoomed to them again, and it took all the effort in the world to stop herself from bursting out in hysteric laughter, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Hermione noticed a young girl around her age look Blaise up and down, an approving gaze on her. But she felt too surreal and far gone to register its meaning, unsure if she was happy she had a hot date or if she should feel protective of him.

"Nice set up, Draco," Blaise flashed his teeth, extremely fake, but convincing to everyone who didn't know the history or know them behind closed doors.

"Thanks, Zabini," he answered coolly, fighting back his delight because he knew he had him beat for the time being. He glanced at Pansy, who returned the coy grin.

"Isn't it just lovely," Narcissa sighed, tipsy from wine, grabbing onto her sons arm. "The sky is beautiful."

"It's so beautiful," Hermione chimed in, not noticing the silent passing looks Pansy and Draco exchanged.

"Yeah, haven't been round these parts in a long time. Good spot." This came from Mr. Jagger, which caused Hermione to melt at the nonchalance of his speech, cursing herself for being so fan-girly as if she was still twelve. A woman far too young for him, but a definite 10 as Miles said, nodded serenely in agreement.

"Enjoy the locale, Granger?"
Draco eyed Hermione, hoping to get something amusing from her.
She felt the alcohol bubble in her very empty stomach, and took a draining gulp before responding.

"I do," she nodded. "It's very relaxed and charming. Like a fantasy."
Merlin, what am I saying?, Hermione thought, keeping on her calm demeanour as she heard Pansy snort.

"Oh, your Harry Potter's best friend, aren't you?" Narcissa remarked warmly, in which Hermione nodded in bewilderment. "Hermione?"

Narcissa was extremely radiant, Hermione noticed, having never seen her up close before. She caught herself before asking how Lucius ever managed to convince her he was worthy of her time.

"I am," she nodded. "It's so great to meet you. Unfortunately, Harry nor Ron could come tonight. They're so boring. Now, why are you alone? Where's your majestic husband gone this evening?"

Draco nearly spat out his drink, turning away so he could stifle the laughter that was wracking his frame.
"Majestic?" he repeated to himself very quietly.

"Come now, Draco," Narcissa tsked. "That's such a shame. Glad someone could convince you to attend," she winked at Blaise, wherein he grinned politely. "Lucius also couldn't make it. These sort of events aren't comfortable to him, normally. Such an introvert," she shook her head, as if he were a disobeying child and not a bigot. "Perhaps he'll come next time, I've always wanted to meet Harry Potter."

"'arry Potter?" slurred Mick, who was into his fifth drink.

"Well known in our circle," Narcissa explained matter-of-factly. And nobody questioned her further because a photographer asked for a quick snap. They all bared their teeth and held hands, leaning so nobody would be left out, a good save by Mama Malfoy.

When the man was gone, Draco decided to break the silence.
"I'm assuming by the expression on your face you came over to see Mick, Granger. Why not introduce yourself?"
She would've slapped him had she not been in such a spacy mood and good company. Putting her on the spot was something he was bound to do. Now he'd given her the opportunity to say something at least, even if it was humiliating for her.

"A fan, are you?" Mick swayed, questioning her kindly. "Haven't been that many this evening, no obsessive girls screeching for some reason. Not that I'm complaining."

"Yes, I am a very big fan," she replied with grace. A giant grin spread across Micks face. "My father is the obsessed one, to be honest. With classic rock, I mean; I grew up listening to all your records."

She appeared sheepish, but Mick was awash with joy.

"Your father? Oh darling, you're making me feel s-so old," he put a hand to his heart dramatically, reaching out to grab Hermione's wrist playfully, chuckling.

Hermione again fought the urge to squeal in delight, or faint, but Draco noticed the exuberance in her eyes, it had alighted her whole body at Mick's action.

"But so wise." This came from Vivienne, a gleam in her eye. Mick's date and the girl beside her giggled. "Come on, where's that youthful spirit you're supposed to be known for, hmm?"

"Stuck with Keith, the bastard. Always in Connecticut these days."
Hermione almost screamed. She needed another drink to handle this. She was in a real life conversation where Mick Jagger casually name-dropped his guitarist.

They continued to have a dull, yet extremely fascinating to Hermione, conversation about the reasons Keith Richards and the rest of the Stones liked or disliked Britain more than America, and why their millionth record release was delayed.

"Are you playing then?" Hermione asked, the 'musical performance' never being revealed to Draco's party guests.

"Oh, yes. Alone unfortunately."

"You don't need him, Daddy. When's the last time you played solo anyways?" Daddy. The mystery woman was Georgia May, Hermione remembered after a moment of wracking her brain. Mick's daughter, who was unusually quiet.

"True, true, darling. Perhaps I should go set up soon, have to fly in the morning unfortunately, old men can't stay up as long as they'd like. What's your name again, sweetheart?"

"Hermione," she squeaked, dissolving into mush as he looked her in the face.

"Lovely, glad to meet somebody with taste," he winked. "I hope you enjoy the show. Wanna go get some more wine, Lisa? Vivienne?"

And like a gentleman, he put his arms round the two ladies and strolled them away.
Pansy watched the display with annoyance, hating that Granger had gotten so much attention and not her, Blaise hadn't even acknowledged her existence! She hmmphed to the rock star waltzing and Sergei waved at Draco and his mum before they both were following suit.

"He's such a card," Georgia noted, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Blaise Zabini," Blaise answered, caught off guard that this random muggle girl was interested in him.

Georgia May Jagger was a part-time model for Vivienne Westwood, which is why she had attended and the reason Draco and Narcissa had managed to coerce her father into playing the gig, as she explained to a nodding Blaise.

"Yes, I had wanted my good friend Martin to come tonight, he loves being the centre of attention. Alas, he's in Milan this week and recommended I contact Vivienne, whose just been divine," Narcissa chimed in.

"She has been rather good, hasn't she? No negative comments yet about the outfits," Draco noted, trying to make his rye and coke last.

Getting drunk was not a priority tonight, though it clearly was for Hermione. He wanted her to feel guilty for talking shit behind his back, make her feel uncomfortable for being so accusatory of his career plans.

Did she really think he was going to fail?
Should he care? He found that he did even though he certainly didn't want to.

So far she was being annoyingly delightful, it seemed uncharacteristic.

"Perhaps I should address the commoners," Draco continued, jerking his head to the Slytherin boys, abandoned by their ladies who were fascinated by a drop dead gorgeous Muggle model, one of Vivienne's few on a permanent contract.

"I'll join you," Blaise agreed, looking to Hermione. She shoo'd him away with a flourish of her hand, and he shook his head, entertained by her.

"Excuse me, I'm going to freshen up," Georgia sauntered off to the loos, winking to them before she went.

"So nice to have you here," Narcissa said as they were the last ones standing.

"Thank you, it's a very spectacular venue…..I'm going to get another drink. Watch the show…"
Left alone with a charming woman in an otherwise devil family was too much for Hermione to process in this state.

She hobbled her way back to her tattooed vixen, who set her up with another drink before stumbling all the way to the marquee across the roof. A table situated close to the raised stage where Mick was gathering his musicians was empty, so Hermione aimed to plop herself down, hoping nobody would ruin this for her.

"What the hell is wrong with Granger?" Draco exhaled as he watched Blaise's girlfriend trip and then giggle on some muggle actor he didn't care about. He helped lead her to a table, mysterious concoction in her hand.

The men were all standing against the rails, puffing on a spliff, mary jane and ciggy's. Tobacco and weed.
It was a ritual Miles had started. They'd agreed on doing it during large gatherings; being stoned was fun in crowds.

Draco wasn't chugging his alcohol, so he let himself be influenced. He'd only been high twice because of his 95% absence from social events. But now he needed to feel something.

He passed it to Blaise. "No idea. She only ate a salad today, I think she's not used to the volume of gin to food ratio. She's lightweight to begin with."

"I thought she was hilarious," Miles spluttered, choking on the uneven air leaving his lungs. "Seriously, Daphne and the rest can be so snotty and uptight. Too afraid of messing their hair to enjoy this, too afraid to be nice to each other."

"That Dicky Jagger bloke did take a liking to her pretty quick..." Blaise murmured. "Although he's pretty plastered."

"He's always plastered," Draco commented, thinking back to his past encounters.

Then he was filled with contemplation on how right Blaise was. And Blaise was suddenly thoughtful too: his bookworm-gal was the one to watch.

"It is odd, Pansy was around Mick for a whole day. What criteria would he need to fancy a girl? Just looks, and Pansy looks really amazing, - I mean that was the point," Draco corrected noticing Theo's accusing eyebrow raise. "But he told me she seems too cold. Sergei was fine, he liked him."

"Pansy is cold, that's just her," Theo said. "Confidence is hard to find, and just because our girls have it… Astoria and the rest are just being honest, right? They don't care about some old Muggle bloke, do they? They just want to be in on who's who. He liked Hermione because she admires him. Yet she had to drink up just to try and talk to somebody famous – er."

He'd gone too far, and Blaise threw him a sneer.

"You're just jealous she looks better than Astoria when she makes an effort, and probably more so when she hasn't. I've seen the Greengrass girls sans maquillage," Blaise bit, Theo snarling in response.

"Yeah, right. She's not ugly, but she's no Slytherin Princess," he retaliated. "Too soft around the middle, too pale and plain because all she cares about is books."

"Oh, come off it, Theo. She's nice at least, doesn't have the IQ of a troll," Miles defended her. He didn't like discussing the girls as if they were nothing, though he would not dare voice it.

Theo huffed his disdain but went momentarily quiet.

"Exactly….and that's fine and dandy, but all the girls can be charming. Why would the Jagger bloke like her?" Draco felt that was the most idiotic question in the world to be asked by a boyfriend about his lady. "She's really smart, that's half the reason I wanted to date her. Just….I thought people found her boring."

"She's enchanting, you idiot," Adrian sighed. "Same with Sergei. They're not so lifeless like we're taught to be. Shun the outsiders, mum said. Hermione actually gives a shit, that's the difference. Showing interest, especially in others existence, makes people like you."

"Nah, yeah you're on to something. They look like right bitches, the girls" Lucian agreed flitting his fag to the ground, high-fiving a laughing Eric. "So unfriendly, those ladies. Unless you're fit enough, they'll drop you like a soiled sickle. At least you have a hot girlfriend who isn't a total waste of space, eh Blaise?" he continued, ribbing him.

Eric elbowed Blaise in the ribs as he threw the cherry off the roof, watching the ashes fall to the cement.
"Bet she's freaky in the sheets, eh, mate? Seems the type, doesn't she lads?"

Draco rolled his eyes, waiting for the haze to affect him so he'd actually find the banter funny, or for Blaise to go off on Eric, something.

"What, haven't gotten to second base yet?" Graham Montague teased at his silence, in which most of the more immature company guffawed.

"Does she know about your exploits, Blaisey-boy?" Theo persisted, knowing this was Blaise's spot of contention, the marijuana making him more confident than normal against his 'friend'. "Like to paint yourself a saint, but you are such a bad one, aren't ya?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco inquired, now lost at this turn of topic.

"Perhaps Hermione won't give it up as she knows that Blaise here will fuck just about any pretty thing that moves."

Draco was stunned, very unaware that Blaise would be promiscuous, the way he acted at school indicating the opposite, too picky.

Blaise knew this was coming, knew they'd ridicule him for being with Hermione, and about his conquests. So he very calmly turned away, looking out into the night against the railing.
"I fucked her three times last night." He lit his cigar.

He was now in a sour mood. The buzzy high was mixing very poorly with the many scotches in his stomach, and he didn't fancy the idea that his friends actually liked his girlfriend.

Someone choked on their drink, and Draco for some odd reason was more gobsmacked than he felt he should be. Of course she wasn't a virgin, she was always all over Viktor Krum according to Narcissa, who had a giant crush on him and read the papers.
The news she loved to bang just made him feel even more pathetic; he was a rich, eligible bachelor and she was just a know-it-all. But who was the one who could manage to land dates?

"Yeah. I fucked her. More than that. I made her cum, and I made her moan, chaps. Spanked her, pounded her, til she begged me to stop. And then ask for more. Completely sober. She is freaky in the sheets, and she was good. She wanted to keep going. Not at all like I would've expected. Way less demanding and prissy than most socialite bitches," he leaned in closer, to Theo. "And if you don't believe me, I can probably convince her to fuck in a bathroom stall."

"I don't want to hear this," Draco whined, putting a hand to his ear, slugging back his refreshed rum now.

"Of course not Draco, you haven't fucked anyone. Pansy is the only girl who wants your cock, but if she ever did get it, the novelty would finally wear off and she'd run back to Sergei, who is 100X better looking than you. And doesn't have the personality of an abrasive amoeba."
Draco remained unfazed by the comment, too stoned to be violent, his emotional steel armour in place for times like these where his peers laughed in his face.

And you – " he pointed to Theo, who immediately stopped chuckling. "You got my leftovers, Theo. Astoria could still be mine, but she's a dime a dozen in the pureblood circle. Useless and catty. I told Hermione who I dated, she doesn't need to know I love meaningless sex when I can't find someone worthwhile. They don't count, those girls."

"What, all fifty thousand of them?" Theo hissed angrily, fists threatening to punch. "Funny how you tell me Hermione is on board to help your legal matters, and the day after you've fucked her."

"That's none of your damn business," Blaise uttered through gritted teeth. "Just like the number of women who wanted me. So I suggest if you want a job and a girlfriend, you keep your trap shut."

"So that's your angle then?" Draco inquired, realization gripping him. "You only want to date her because she'll be your own personal lawyer you can shag? To make you look good too, that's why you were so adamant on including Potter in everything. What if she messes up a case? Then what, you'll dump her and this whole ruse will be glaringly obvious?"

"She's not going to mess up," Blaise laughed loudly, billowing smoke into Draco's face before sauntering off. "And you just try to tell Hermione I'm 'using her', as you are suggesting. Go ahead, Draco. I'm sure she'll believe you."

Fire was burning in the pit of Draco's stomach, the flames enraging him.
He wanted Blaise off his high horse; the one person who had ensured the title of being easier to hate than Theodore Nott. Because unlike Theo, Blaise pretended to be a good person when he was scum. Theo had the decency to wear his nastiness with un-honorable pride.

"Who knew Blaise was like that?" was all Miles could murmur, speechless. "I knew he was kind of a player but…"

"I did," Draco spat, wiping his mouth as if he could erase the bad taste within it. "And I warned you all at school. Blaise thinks he has everything figured out, and if a cog goes amiss in his head, watch out. He doesn't like that you think Granger is cute. He'll be on the rampage to fix whatever behaviour he doesn't like. Especially if drunk."

"He's got to stop being such a dick," Theo mumbled, finally admitting he was tired of being treated that way.

"Oh shove it, you'll be his friend again when he offers you something good. Don't even lie about it."

"Oh yeah? So what if I do? Think you're better than him? Than us? Think you aren't as petty and shot-for-shot?"

"I never said that," Draco countered, sitting down on the stone, his mind too foggy, his suit too tight. He discarded his blazer and loosened his tie.

"Good. I want you to be, because I propose you do something. A bet, say, on the outcome."

Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. "What?"

Theo kneeled, his mischievous green eyes meeting his grey. "What does Blaise like most? Status. Now, his business is actually solid, he does do a good job of it, even if it's just for the prestige. So we can't go there. We must target his new lass, Miss Hermione, where it'll hurt him."

"What the bloody fuck are you on about?"

"Shhhh," he whispered, making sure only he could be heard, and everyone else wasn't paying attention;

"Get her to be on your side. Round her in for a legal matter you have, made up or not, and win her over. Try and get her to change the way she looks, and make her the exact opposite as she is now. Do you like the way she came tonight? Huh? Mister Stylist. Too scared to admit it or what?"
Draco rolled his eyes and tried to find her.

"She looks fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine. She looks like Blaise orchestrated everything about the way she was going to appear. Same old Blaise, typical. I actually warned her at that Quidditch match that he had an angle and that she should watch out, to mess with her head. Don't know if it did. But guess I'm right though."

"Yeah, you are. You could tell her he's lying about the sex, but she won't believe you. He was correct in that assumption. And she'd probably be too afraid to ask any of the girls about his past. Wouldn't it be funner to torment Blaise, undermine him using the one thing he can't have complete autonomy over? Especially when she's hated you forever? Make Blaise see you two be friendly, paranoia swallowing him whole until he can't stand it and explode. To have her realize on her own that he's a colossal dick, instead of being told?"

"But why would I do that, Theodore?" he sighed, agreeing that it would be immensely satisfying. Yet hard. Pansy would kill him if she knew he was making nice with Granger.

"Because it kills you that Blaise is held with such prestige, when you know he doesn't deserve it."

"Maybe that's how you feel, but everyone seems to want to be nice again to me. Neither do I deserve this when Mummy paid for all this," he gesticulated to the roof. "I'm just tired of him, alright. Maybe I wanted to make him jealous, but his cock is his business, and if Granger is too stupid to figure out her mistake than I was wrong about her intelligence."

"Come on, do it. I bet you. If you can get Granger to let you make her over, an obvious no-no forbidden by Blaisey, I will never insult you again. And I will defend your honour any time somebody else does."

"Yeah right, mate. What if I can't do it?"

"That will be embarrassment enough. The publicized rejection of you by her. Humiliating. I'll never let you live it down."

"Any stipulations?" Draco continued, wondering why the hell he was even considering this.

"She has to like her transformation, and she has to talk fondly of you. So play nice," he drawled, coming to sit next to Draco.

Draco turned to Theodore, not understanding his actions at all. "Why do you want this so badly?"

Theo sighed. "You're the only one with enough venom in you to pull it off. We all know it. You hate each other so you're distant. I work for him, he knows too much dirt on everyone except you."

"I still don't…."

"Look, I'll level with you. I usually can't stand your stupid Malfoy face but…you don't give a fuck and I admire it. Blaise hangs Astoria above my head like a piñata I'll never break, and lucky fucking me, I love her. I didn't when Blaise suggested she and I go out sometime, but after a year I think I'll pitifully admit I'd be crushed if she was gone. She says she loves me, but I can her checking men out. I realize I'm not as enticing as some of the others. If Blaise stole her away from me with words or worse I'd….." he growled and clenched his fists.

Draco watched Theo stare straight ahead at Astoria, who was cooing over the male model still. For once he felt that Theodore Nott was a human being, and had justifiable anger. A weakness; an Achilles' heel.

"Deal."

Draco stood up, grabbed a flute of champagne and wandered over to the marquee, where Mick had already begun his set, halfway through it now.

Theo gave a stunned "what" and Draco shot him a look, then nodded.

"Let me please introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste! But what's puzzlin' you is the nature of mah game!"

Mick was crowing into the mic, putting on a dashing drunken display, Draco thought. He laughed as he watched the senior strut around, charming the pants off of everyone in the vicinity.

Draco marched right up to Hermione and leaned against the table so close to the stage, admiring her guts as she belted the lyrics along with him.

"Had a bit too many?" He asked, the alcohol enabling him to not be afraid of dire consequence of sitting next to her. "You're making a damn fool of yourself singing aloud."

"Oh maybe," Her eyes were glazed and cheeks flushed. "I just love this song though."

"So you liked the party then? Take back your words about my incompetence?"

"Not yet," she giggled, pushing her arms in the air, the rhythm so catchy. "You haven't actually presented your business plan, have you?"

"I have. I came with a bunch of pretty people in nice clothes. That's all I need. Create some mystery and people wonder about you. They want to know more. The last thing you want to do is push yourself onto others too much, the advertising was just needed to show the splendour of it all."

Hermione stopped for a moment, breathing heavily from all the chanting. "That's remarkably clever."

'Draco was taken aback', is a phrase understated.

"Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints. As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer, cause I'm in need of some restraint!"

"You certainly are," Draco remarked, jolted at her sudden burst of song. "What is this song anyway?"

"God, you are so dense. Don't even research the musical guest? It's 'Sympathy for the Devil.'"

"Hm, you seemed to have researched him a bit too much, Granger. Practically salivated on him."

"How could I not? He's in the greatest band of all time!" she screeched. " I'm so glad I got to meet him in my lifetime. And see him play."

"Is that a thank you then to me? Indirectly?"

"Oh alright, thank you Draco. And thank you for not kicking me out the moment you realized Harry wasn't showing up." She said the last part almost gazing in his eyes, sincerely.

Even though she was out of it, it felt much too uncomfortable for Draco to fathom. That she thought because of her blood or because of her friends that he'd kick her out.

"Don't thank me for that," he said quietly, looking down at the bubbles in his glass.

Mick finished and the crowd hooted and clapped wildly. They sat together, an odd pair, observing the next few songs. Hermione was unable to stay quiet, seeing as Mick pointed at her several times with a smile, and because she knew every single line on his set list. It was also evident as she tried to settle that Hermione was unable to stay still. Draco felt out of place but found it all amusing. He regretted not exiting sooner at Hermione's next statement, but knew it was rude to leave during his own party's main event.

The last stanza of "You Can't Always Get What You Want" was stirring the press and avid fans, so Mick started up a slow encore.

"Have you seen Blaise? It's been nice having him not make asinine comments about everyone else's inadequacy but I think I should go to the hotel. Much too drunk if I'm talking civilly to you," she winked, and Draco felt a knot twist in his chest. Hotel?

"No, he stormed off about thirty minutes ago. I'll help you find him, I suppose," he agreed reluctantly, remembering he was the host. Pansy was nowhere in sight, so he had no excuse to run off.

Hermione was off-foot as she stood up, and Draco managed to catch her arm before she fell. She clutched his thigh for support before getting upright, grazing his cock before wriggling free from his grip. He gulped down his libido, instructing her to wait by the door while he got Blaise.

He wanted to discard his shirt with how heated he felt now as he walked to the loo, embarrassed Granger had that effect.
"I really need to get laid," he muttered to himself, splashing cold water on his face as he stood over the bathroom sink.

Moans of pleasure and grunts of physical exertion were now audible in Draco's ears, the fuss from the guitars blocking it outside these walls.

"Fucking irony."

He moved to a stall, hating urinals, to unzip his pants and take a leak. Suddenly voices were heard in the next one over.

"Uh, Blaise! Blaise! Oh, god. Fuck, you better make sure you keep your promises, I want your cock in me again."

Draco froze.
It was Georgia May.
And Blaise.

Georgia May and Blaise.

He couldn't give a shit if a famous rock star daughter wanted to bang blokes, but this was a 'committed' man. Cheating. Taking Hermione in here right now would serve more justice than he probably could get from doing Theo's bet.

But the dark side of Draco was raring his ugly head now that Blaise showed he'd do something so disgusting. This blackmail was too good to pass up. He pissed and then fumbled for his stupid 'smart phone', fishing it from his pocket to turn the noise off. He had to endure a full minute of gross sex-talk before he found the video camera, but he turned it on so there would be sound, and like an expert sleuth, pushed it under the raised barrier on the ground.

From the view finder he could vaguely see her riding him while he was astride the toilet seat. They weren't wearing protection, and Blaise had no wand to cast any kind of spell. He made sure their faces and names were seen and repeated, trying to erase the image immediately. Draco sent it to his three different e-mails, a tip learnt from Pansy, so nobody could delete it unless they knew the password.

Outside the loo, he waited for Blaise to come out while he smoked another joint he got a bartender to roll, the couple taking an extra 10 minutes more. He had to be placated to not punch him outright in the face.

"Your lady is waiting for you," he startled Blaise, pointing to a swaying Hermione, and playing oblivious to the giggling model parting ways. Giving Blaise bedroom eyes before hugging her father at the bar.

"Nice party, Draco," is all he replied. "See you later."
Walking over to Hermione he adjusted his suit. Draco felt sickened when she raised her voice and hugged him tightly, having not seen him for a while.

Luckily for Hermione though, as they got back to their room down the block, she was far too out of it to do anything romantic. She fell asleep immediately.

That dawn, Draco was finally settling in. But he couldn't get slumber to catch him. His night was a great success, and he met a lot of new connections. Which was the point. All of the more important clientele seemed to enjoy themselves, and the press thanked him for a great opportunity.

Though wasted and buzzed, Draco squirmed and could not shake the vision of Blaise fucking Hermione until she screamed and came. After he'd been with another girl.
He realized it was wracking guilt that was eating him alive; he was a horrible miscreant for not telling her when he actually witnessed it firsthand.

Fortunately, he already was enacting a plan. And he was certain it would work.
No sympathy for this devil.