SEMI IMPORTANT A/N: Hey everyone, been a few weeks since I checked in. Just wanted to continually thank and praise you for following this story, whether you commented, favourite it or simply read it.

I was looking through this site for random fics to read, and I was vainly curious about my own, so I searched for 'Undisclosed Desires.' More than FOUR HUNDRED results popped up. Like any irrational insecure person, I changed it (for those new readers, it used to be Monophony, and then Undisclosed Desires; this is the second swap).

I'm sorry that I keep changing the name. I honestly had no idea I'd still have the drive to be writing this fic, 2 years, 40 chapters later, and I just have this perfectionist side of me nagging inside my head to get everything A+.

So I've changed it to Head Versus Heart because it really catches the tone I think of it, and it's an allusion to one of my favourite lines from a Death Cab for Cutie song [Crooked Teeth, look it up ;) ]

Love you all! Xx FeminaSerpens

The way that she moves, well I was aroused, empowered, impassioned by every move.
It's so cold outside, we need a place to hide; go into the club to thaw out for the night.
She's automatic, so automatic - the way that she moves, the way that she moves.

My head was spinnin' a million miles an hour, the chance I was takin'; I get anxious around her.
She put her head on my shoulder, I started to hold her. Swingin' and swayin' the morning began.

- She's Automatic, Rancid.

"It is bloody cold, Merlin's saggy pants!"

Ron has drank a bit too much, I'd wager. He's already got that glazed look on his face.

Lanka doesn't seem to care though, she's in the same boat, clutching his arm for support as we walk down the street to the club, giggling at everything he says.

"Warm enough?" Draco asks me, grabbing my ungloved hand and sticking them entwined into his jacket pocket.

"Just fine," I reply.

He smirks at me, making my stomach flip. His reaction to my outfit, while very embarrassing, made me feel really good about myself. Personally, I think he looks a thousand times better, so having him speechless stroked my ego in a very delicious way.

I grin back at him.

I can't stop smiling in fact, and it's not from the liquor.

It was such a lovely gesture to buy me flowers. He really does go all out on every occasion, doesn't he? I could get used to that. I'll concede that I like being spoiled a bit. Sometimes routine, even my studying one, fails to satisfy me.

I hit a groove, and jut my heel into the cobbled street. Luckily Draco catches me as I'm about to fall, and though I'm not drunk, I feel like I need to make an excuse for myself.

"Sorry, sorry, I slipped. I must confess I think the margarita helped me with the warmness I feel now," I profess. "Hopefully it isn't too obvious."
I stuck to the rules I laid out for myself and only had one drink at George's. Admittedly, it was quite good, I'm a sucker for citrus. But it was enough to make my face flush with warm from the tequila. I think maybe I'll get something similar at Dragonblood.

Draco laughs.

"It isn't that obvious, the blush suits you anyways. You look quite adorable, even when clumsy."

He never ceases to make me flush.

"You alright, darling?" Verity calls from in front.

"Fine, thanks! The situation is under control."

"Great," Verity smiles, and then turns to George. "So are we going to be on the VIP list or what?" she teases him, then he rolls his eyes at her.

"No, we're not famous, remember?"

"But Harry is!"

"Were you serious when you said that then?" Harry asks, looking over at Ron who is now stumbling. "Will there be some Quidditch players there?"

"Honestly, it's what the owner said, Mr. Gold. I'm not 100% certain. He likely was trying to up the ante, getting you to show up would make the night probably go into the Prophet, even if it was just in that crappy 'Out and About' section. Obviously he did his research in passing on to me the enticement of meeting some seekers."

Harry shrugs and nods, probably self-conscious that he can make or break an opening night for an establishment.

"Who cares, anyways? We never go out. People used to bother us all the time, but that was months ago. Maybe they'll bother other people tonight," Ginny expresses.

"That would be ideal!" Draco replies loudly to that, cupping his hands to his mouth.

Verity audibly snorts.

She turns around from the lead and tells him, "Darling, you and Hermione are probably more of a target than Harry tonight, having a repeat encounter in public so soon after the speculation. They're not going to leave you alone if they're there."

My date outwardly cringes at the thought, realizing she must be correct.

"Who cares?" I say boldly. "Let them. It's true, isn't it? We are dating. People may as well know now so they can get their initial loathing of my decision making out of the way. I have no doubt in my mind that everyone in Gryffindor will be judging me when we get back."

Draco falters for a second when I explain this, taken aback by my audacity.

"That's the right attitude, hic," Lanka yells, pumping her fist in the air and hiccupping. Ron chuckles at her, finding it cute, and I'm grateful that he's preoccupied. He's going to leave us alone tonight and have a great time (hopefully). I'm definitely thanking Verity later for this set up.

"Does that bother you?" Draco asks me directly, his voice sober if not a bit small.

"Of course it does, these people are my peers and friends," I answer honestly. "I hate to say that I'm horrible under certain people's scrutiny, especially my own house. But I'm ready for it. I see you for who you are, not just for what you've done, you've shown me you've improved drastically from last year this past week."

"Yeah?" he says, a little stunned and proud of my approval.

"Yeah. So just, forget about it. We'll take it in stride. What's a better way to prove them all wrong than having a nice time?"

He grins wickedly at me and kisses me on the mouth, leaving a burning sensation and whiskey taste when he pulls away from the contrast of the chilly night.

"And we're here!"

We've reached the tall black, looming building: Dragonblood is emblazoned across the top in gold, glittering magically. After all this build up, I feel giddy with excitement as we enter the big wooden doors.

The building is completely transformed from being an antique shop; there is a small coat check in the corridor immediately inside, and then a gigantic archway leads to a room blaring with Wizarding music. It looks quite full. We did get here a bit late, it's already past 11.

The host is a man with a low dirty blonde ponytail, heavy-set and about 25. As all eight of us make it inside, he whips his head up and brightens up as he spots George, then glows even brighter at Harry.

"George, so nice of you to take up the invite! Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! And oh, Miss Granger too! You brought some fantastic friends," he says, scanning us. I feel unsettled as he lands his eyes on me, because he looks at my hand in Draco's pocket. And he should grimace at our pairing, but instead his expression looks even more ecstatic.

"Er, yeah. We just wanted to drop off our coats and check our wands, so…." George seems a bit suspicious of this man, perhaps he doesn't know who he is.

"Not at all, not at all. Mr. Gold will see you inside, he's here for the grand event. Bruce? Dickinson? Grab our special guest's coats. And Genine here will take your wands for safekeeping."

Safekeeping?

All at once unknown men (bouncers I presume) take our belongings, swiftly and uncomfortably taking everyone's jackets off for them.

"I do not want to give them my wand," Draco growls in protest as he brushes of one of the men trying to take of his coat.

"I know, mate, but it's law," George prods, and I look at him, trying to silently tell him it'll be fine.

One by one, we place our wands in Genine's hands, a pretty witch who says nothing. Once he sees that I have handed mine in, Draco very reluctantly passes over his, scowling.

"I know you're all of age, go inside, go inside!" The host smiles at us too happily, then checks out Lanka quite obviously, running his eyes up and down her body. Verity sneers at him.

Lanka is a master of indifference however, and she strolls right past him dragging Ron in tow.

Awkwardly, the rest of us shuffle inside figuring it's not worth a fight.

"What a creep," Harry mutters.

"Why is it law to have them keep our wands?" Ginny whispers to George, fazing past the unwarranted leering.

"Alcohol and charms don't go too well together," he says. "It's just a necessary precaution."

I cannot hear the rest of the conversation as the music becomes deafening, the front entrance likely soundproof.

The main chamber is bustling with drunken people, magical strobe lights flashing before my eyes making them ache. Everyone looks around our age. It's quite small for a club, actually. Granted, I've never been to one, but it's just an open space, with a raised platform-cum-dance floor to the left. The bar is against the back wall while there is a grand staircase that leads up to the loos. I can't believe my eyes when I spot a floating, rotating disco ball replacing a chandelier.

The wizarding community seriously needs to get up with the times.

"This is AWESOME!" Ron shouts to us, though I'd wager it's more out of Lanka taking him to dance rather than the actual location. They disappear into the crowd, not without garnering some stares from envious boys and girls.

"Bar?" George asks loudly to us. Verity shakes her head, still looking a bit peeved about the host.

"No, I want to embarrass myself, and you, first. Let`s get up on this ridiculous stage!" She yanks him by the collar, and up into the throng of patrons grinding and 'getting rowdy' as we so eloquently put it. In regular Weasley twin fashion, he merely sparkles with a grin and joins his lady. They begin to wiggle around tastefully with over exaggerated moves.

"You don't want to dance, do you?" I ask Draco, pulling him close so I can talk in his ear.

He looks at me and pulls a face. "No, I really don't. Do you?"

"No!" I yell, laughing at his reaction. "It's far too congested! And people are staring."

I notice a few people glaring openly at us, or perhaps it's just Draco. I feel like I did last year again, only it's not praise, it's loathing.

"I agree. The sooner we get out of this fluorescent mess, the better. Potter? Drink?!" Draco yells over the din to Harry, whose standing surrounded by people a bit too daunted to go near him, whispering and gazing at him.

He looks thoughtfully at Ginny, who coolly ignores the gawkers. She looks longingly at the dancers, then rolls her eyes and nods, knowing that he wants nothing to do with this gang of people.

"I promise you after one drink I'll dance, okay? For however long you want."

With that concrete assurance, Ginny is once again her usual self and hurriedly drags him over to the bartender, whisking him away with lightning speed.

"Hermione, you wanna do shots?" she asks, calling out to me cupping her hands to her mouth.

I am not as enthused as she is, nor can I scamper as fast as she can in these heels, but I try to catch up to her, ambling past the sea of bodies.

"No, I don't want to do shots," I reply as I make it over. "I want to have something that takes a while to consume."

She pouts. "Aw, you're no fun! Harry?" she asks longingly. He shakes his head.

"No, I have to watch out for everyone. I have a feeling George and Ron will be lacking responsibility if they have a bit too much fun." Ginny gives him a look, clearly disproving at the lack of loosening up.

"Classic Potter, always afflicted with Hero Syndrome," Draco smirks, though not unkindly. "I'll do one with you, if you'd like," he offers.

"You will not." Harry looks livid at the prospect, Ginny a bit surprised at his reaction.

"Why?" Draco asks, smiling as if the protest is ridiculous.

"I don't exactly want you getting drunk with my girlfriend, and have everyone else witness it too. Besides, you need to stay alert for Hermione. Don't you think shots are a bit reckless?"

"Harry, it's really not a big deal…"

"Potter, I know you disprove of me drinking, but I have a high tolerance. One shot isn't gonna do me in, I only had a glass of whiskey at George's."

"Ugh, that's not the point…."

"What's wrong then?" I ask him, feeling like there is something deeper.

"Nothing. Just go ahead, take your shot. I'll be right back, need some water," and he shoots away to the bathroom. Ginny and I exchange glances, and Draco looks a bit discomfited.

"I'm going to go talk to him, if that's okay Ginny?" She nods, and turns to Draco.

"Vodka?" She asks less cheerily than usual, clearly embarrassed by her boyfriend's behaviour.

"Yes, let's." He gives me a reassuring nod, letting me know that he's unfazed and that he'll stay with Ginny.

I quickly push my way to the stairs, trying to keep an invisible target on Harry, and luckily I manage to get to him before he goes in the toilets, cursing my footwear as I fumble up the steps.

"Harry!"

He spins around, a frown etched on him. "How did I know you'd come after me?" he sighs.

"I just want to know what's going on in your head. We've been here for five seconds and you're already in a huff. Ginny understands that you can sort things out on your own. But I feel like this is an issue with Draco, and so it concerns me, and so I have to bug you about it."

"I think it's obvious what's wrong," he says, looking at me seriously, hesitant.

"I know it's Draco, but what is it? The fact we're in a bar? I know you didn't want to come."

"It's everything, Hermione," he whines. "I understand you're dating Draco, and you like him, but I don't. I don't want to be here with him, I don't want to be here at all, really. It's so awkward, and on top of everything this place seems fishy, doesn't it? How happy that man was to see us all?"

"Look, I know this wasn't going to be a fairy-tale, but Draco is trying to cooperate isn't he? He's not trying to get along with Ginny, and George, to piss you and Ron off."

"I know, but it's hardwired into me to think that. It's going to take time. And if yesterday was any indication, Ron will never forgive him. Right now he's distracted by pretty Russian girls, but it's not going to be like that all the time."

"Well are you going to let the one time it is like this stop you from having a good time?" I give him a reproachful look, and he begins to look a bit sheepish. "If you'd like, I'll just drag Draco away after he's done taking a shot. Then you can be with Ginny alone. "

"That'd be nice," he concedes.

"Okay well let's go back down. And next time you want to let off steam, don't be so obvious as to go 'get water' when we're literally right beside a bar that stocks it in gallons."

"Oh, shut up," He nudges me. "I was seeing red so I took myself out of the – "

"HOW IS EVERYONE DOING TONIGHT, HUH?"

Harry is cut off as there is a loud interruption from down below. We lean over the railings to witness an older man in a garish, shiny yellow suit using the sonorous charm. I take it he's the owner, Mr. Gold, because of his wardrobe choice and because he has control of his wand.

After his yell, the crowed reverberates in a cheer.

"GOOD? GOOD! I OWN THIS BAR, I'M MR. GOLD, AND I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR EVERYONE IS HAVING A GREAT TIME." More cheers. "I JUST WANTED TO GRAB ALL OF YOUR ATTENTION QUICKLY BY SAYING WE'VE GOT A FEW CELEBRITIES IN THE HOUSE!"

"Oh…no." Harry and I look at each other in horror.

"I HAD HOPED TO GET A FEW NOTABLE QUIDDITCH PLAYERS IN HERE TONIGHT, BUT THEY ALL DECLINED; FAR TOO BUSY TO PARTY, TSK TSK." The crowd begins to get into the spirit, booing and hissing sounds from them, mingled with giggles and 'aww's. "BUT DON'T FEEL DOWN, WE DON'T NEED THEM. MY HOST TELLS ME HARRY POTTER, YES FOLKS, THE BOY WHO LIVED, IS HERE WITH RON WEASLEY, AND HERMIONE GRANGER!" Gasps of excitement rise from a few people down below. Several people at the bottom of the stairs are pointing up at us, showing their friends where we are.

"AND THAT'S NOT ALL! GEORGE WEASLEY OF WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES IS HERE ALONG WITH HIS GRILFRIEND UP THERE ON THE PLATFORM. SEE THEM?" He points to them and they wave, undeterred by this whole thing. "IN FACT, GINNY WEASLEY, HARRY'S GIRLFRIEND IS STANDING RIGHT BESIDE ME NOW WITH THE ARISTOCRATIC, HIGHLY CONTROVERSIAL, DRACO MALFOY. "

A spotlight appears out of nowhere to feature both Ginny and Draco, about to take their shots; glasses at their lips. They freeze midair, looking like deer in headlights. Mentioning Draco seems to have gotten the rouse the owner wanted, as everyone who wasn't already paying attention swoops their head to him.

Anxiety turns in my stomach when flash bulbs begin to go off.

Seems they're photographing tonight after all.

Draco at this action gives Mr. Gold a gaze of the deepest loathing, and Ginny looks extremely annoyed, which only elevates as he puts his arm round her shoulders to pose for the camera. She stares at him like he's an idiot.

"NOT BEING NAUGHTY ARE YOU, YOU TWO? HA HA HA." Harry makes fists with his hands, a low rumble escaping his throat.

Merlin, this is so uncomfortable to watch.

"WHERE'S HARRY, GINNY? AND DRACO, ARE THE RUMOURS TRUE? HAVE YOU JOINED OUR RANKS AND SEDUCED THE BRIGHTEST WITCH OF HER AGE?"

He thrusts his wand to Draco's throat, enabling him to speak louder. Draco tilts his head as if to say, 'are you freaking kidding me?', and mutters, "Ask her yourself."

"OH HO, A LITTLE FEISTY STILL, ARE YOU? I CAN'T VERY WELL ASK HER IF SHEèS NOT HERE." Even though he's far away, I can see the signature eye roll. "I CAN SEE RON DANCING WITH A SMASHING GIRL OVER BY THE CORNER, BUT WHERE ARE THE MISSING TWO, HMM?"

Everybody scans the place until somebody yells close to Mr. Gold, "Up there, look!"

Please, no.

The spotlight moves around until it finds us, blinding me. More pictures are taken. A few claps and whistles are made, probably because of Harry's presence.

"OH THERE YOU TWO ARE! BEING SO SECRETIVE! WELL THERE YOU HAVE IT, AT LEAST YOU KNOW THEY'RE HERE! BEFORE I GO HANG OUT WITH THESE COOL CATS –"he points to us, and I feel my insides cringing. "FOR THE NEXT HOUR, BUY ONE SHOT GET THE OTHER FREE!"

Everyone whoops, a few scramble immediately to the bar.

"Shall we go, then?" Harry sighs. "That was surely an invitation."

I nod, but we stand where we are until the bright light fades, so we can get by as unnoticed as possible.

The room seems daunting in size now as we try to walk back to Ginny.

Between the slurs of "It's so nice to see you, Harry!", "The Boy Who Lived!", "Nice going, man!" and pats on the back, it seems like forever to get past the horde. At first we smile and are as pleasant as possible, but Harry yanks my arm and stops being friendly when a man catcalls to me. His friend stumbles as he looks me up and down and declares "Damn, The Brightest Witch of Her Age is also one of the hottest. Wanna dance, sweetheart?"

Ugh.

"I'm starting to regret wearing this. Thanks," I say to him as we get past the thickest part of the crowd.

"Yeah, me too. Yours isn't as bad as Ginny's though, I swear to Merlin if somebody…." He mutters a curse under his breath and as we get back into breathing air he lets me go and charges to her, a crowd surrounding her now. I don't see Draco.

Before I can make it to the bar, someone grabs my arm gently. Oh, thank heavens.

I spin around, expecting my date, "I'm really sorry you-"

Oh god, no.

It's not Draco, it's Lavender. She's spotted me through all this mess, and is beckoning over people to see me. No, no , no , no, no.

Godric Gryffindor, it's Dean.

Dean.

Along with Seamus, Padma and Parvati, all looking completely wasted.

"Hermione!" Lavender shrieks, pumping up my arm like an old friend that I'm simply not. "It's s-so good to see you! Where's that man, where's Ron? Is- is he here?" she asks, slurring her speech.

"Um, he's on the dance floor somewhere. I'm not sure exactly," I word carefully, mindful of the fact that I shouldn't mention Lanka to set her off on me.

"He is here though? I heard that fat man say it. Hang on, hold my drink, I have to find him." She drops her drink onto me, causing it to hit the ground and shatter before I have time to react, and saunters away.

"Oh, bollocks." She's gotten some sort of vile liquid all over my dress, the hem soaked.

"Hermione," a stern voice commands my attention.

I do not have the strength to deal with this right now.

"What are you doing here with Malfoy!" Dean steps up to me, not as horrifically tall as he normally is with my heels on. He looks incapacitated like everyone else, swaying slightly, but his eyes are more alert. "Haven't you dumped him yet? Maybe I was just one date and that's fine, but him? How could he be more than a fling? You really think he isn't using you to look good? I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the Prophet; what could you possibly see in him?"

I'm not dignifying that with a serious response.

"Look Dean," I start as loudly as I can. "This isn't a conversation I want to have right now. We're supposed to be having fun, in a bar, and we've both been drinking. If you really want to discuss this, let's do it at school, okay? In a private environment."

"Hermione," Seamus comes up to me, smiling in a drunken stupor. "Dean is right, ya? He's concerned for ya, lass," he winks, his Irish brogue strong under the influence. "We're in Gryffindor, we have to look out for one another. We justa wanna make sure yer alright. Malfoy ain't the ideal mate for ya, you could have it so much better."

Somebody giggles behind Seamus. Padma creeps up and slaps him on the behind, then kisses him heartily on the mouth. He reciprocates.

What-?

"Are you happy with him? Dean, move over." Parvati scooches between the canoodling couple and my prosecutor, and grabs onto his arm.

"Are you having a good time with him?" she repeats, pointing at me, obviously sloshed, but serious. "Look at her Dean, she looks fabulous. I think she likes him. Who wouldn't though, he's lookin' pretty fii-iine tonight."

Oh god. Wrong thing to say, Parvati.

"Yeah, well she looked nice for me too, and then decided she just wanted to be friends," he replies testily.

"Yes, I have been enjoying my time with him immensely," I enunciate clearly, ignoring Dean.

Just not tonight.

"I don't understand it, though. His family messed with you, with me, with everyone, and he bullied you for years! Christ we were in his manor," he reminds me, edging closer to my ear to block out his friends. "He's hurt you so badly. What the hell could you see in him?" he repeats. "It can't be his personality. Is it his cock? His money? What!"

"How rude," I say, offended, pushing him away.

I remind myself he's wasted so I can curb the overwhelming desire to slap him.

"Ahem, is there a problem?" Though I'm happy to hear the silky drawl of Draco, I'm hardly relieved.

He stands tall next to me, his demeanour calm but hardened, I can sense it by the way he puts his arm around me.

Dean falters for a moment, deciding what to do. "No, no problem. At least for the meantime. But I'm certain there will be. Once Hermione gets her act together, and realizes she has a lapse in judgement; realizes you're Slytherin scum, you're dead. I'll see to it you are, I owe it to her for saving my life. From your family," he jabs. "I'm sure Harry and Ron will gladly jump aboard, they`re only tolerating you because she is."

Draco seizes up and sets his jaw, but takes a deep breath, not letting it show.

After a moment he replies. "If I hurt her? Then I'll deserve it. And I welcome you to beat me to a pulp. But I won't and that's a promise. Just watch me prove you wrong."

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it. He looks a bit stunned.

Without letting it escalate any further, Draco takes my hand and squeezes it, dragging me over to Ginny still at the bar. I look uncertainly back, waving ridiculously at Seamus who is yelling a goodbye.

Even though there are plenty of people goading us, the crowd actually saves us from any more confrontations.

"Ah! The blooming couple! Nice to meet you, Hermione. Care for a drink, maybe a –"

""If you don't mind," Draco interrupts Mr. Gold, "I'd like to talk to Hermione without an interruption?"

Mr. Gold is taken aback, but plasters a cheery smile on his face. "Of course, of course."

We sit down on the bar stools on the side of the bar, away from Ginny who is avidly talking to Harry's fans, probably had a shot too many. Harry has a chin rested on his palm, waiting for her attention. Luckily, everyone leaves us alone, though I can see a few curious gazes watching us.

"How many shots did she have?" I ask Draco, who grins.

"We had about 3," he laughs. "She was pissed at Potter for giving no effort, but I said it was fine. I'd be the same."

"Drinks for the harassed couple?" One of the bartenders asks us kindly with a grin when he's finished with his customers at the front of the bar. He's a burly man with a beard, covered in tattoos.

"Yeah, Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, the strong one please, on the rocks," Draco orders.

"And for the lady?" I know Draco wants to drink to relieve stress, but I feel like if I have one it'll elevate mine. But damn, I'm not letting this bad mood get to me. My elated feeling I had coming in is completely gone, it needs some way to come back, even if it's drastic.

"Hm, well something light. I'm not exactly a connoisseur, so..." I admit.

"What flavours do you like?" He asks as he shakes Draco's drink together, passing it to him in seconds.

"I like sweet drinks, fruit flavoured."

"Perhaps an Albus Dumbledore?"

Draco raises his eyebrow. "An Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yep, created it myself. It's vodka, triple sec, and sweet and sour mix, but I can just replace the sweet and sour with lemonade. The man loved lemon drops, I'm sure you know. Sound enticing?"

"Yes," I reply. "Thank you. Oh, by the way, there's a broken glass over there, I wasn't sure who to tell."

"We'll take care of it," he smiles.

Draco sips his beverage heartily and eyes me mildly concerned. "Did you cut yourself? Step on the shards?"

"No, er, Lavender spilled her drink on me accidentally."

"Classy."

"Yeah, it got on my dress, but I'm fine…" I trail away, not wanting to talk about this. My drink is handed to me, and it looks quite nice, rimmed with sugar, garnished with a cherry. I move in closer to Draco as I take a sip.

"Are you alright?" I ask quietly, grabbing his hand. "Thank you for not exploding at Dean, I got the gist you wanted to."

"I did. But you were right when you said we have to show people we're fine, rather than argue to people we are," he says morosely. "Right now, I'm not exactly sure how we're supposed to do that when everyone is gawking at us like – OI, can you bugger off!" Somebody just captured us in embrace, sneaking a camera from behind Mr. Gold. They scamper off for other victims, looking frightened.

I can't help but giggle. "Oh, I see the sophisticated Malfoy drawl has disappeared momentarily."

"Yes, well, it's all a façade mostly. Maybe you Gryffindor's are rubbing off on me ," he grins. "Drink good?"

"Don't give in, I like the way you talk." He flushes slightly. "And yes. It is quite good."

"Good. I think the drinks are about the only redeeming quality about this place."

"Normally I'd discourage the negative behaviour and thought, but I think you might be right."

He smiles, and we get to chat for a few minutes in peace until it's due time for us to be bothered.

"Sorry to interrupt, but can we have a group shot for the papers darlings?" A lady who looks to be Rita Skeeter's doppelganger, with red hair instead of blonde, stands before us smiling coyly.

"Uh – "

"Imelda Ipswitch, pleasure," she says, grabbing my limp hand and shaking it. "So, how shall we set this up?"

"You won't," Draco replies simply, taking another sip.

I really wish I had the nerve he did sometimes.

"I don't think you understand what you're declining, Mister Malfoy. Everyone has been trying to figure out where you and Hermione would show up next, or if you would at all. Now that you're here, with a clearly mixed reception, don't you want a smiling photograph in the Prophet with her to show the world your love. Instead of say, a little quip stating you refused to comment? Don't think that would reflect pleasantly, hmmm? Don't want the public thinking you've gone mean do you, Hermione?"

"You're blackmailing us, then?" I ask appalled.

"You might say that," she says with an air of indifference.

"Well I couldn't give a gargoyle's hump to be honest," Draco spits. "You'll just speculate and lie again next week. I made up bullshit to the Prophet about Potter over there," he points, "years ago and you printed it. I guess this is my payback, huh?"

"So testy, my love. Just calm down, it'll all be alright," she 'soothes', beckoning her camera boy over to us,

"It will not! You slandered my mother, as did all the other papers because all you care about is stirring the pot. You don't care about repercussions, or if you seriously affect people. Plus, you've always 'reflected' me negatively as well as my family, why do you think I'd ever react positively towards you now? Get this guy out of my fucking face."

She purses her lips, fighting back anger. "Fine. Peter?"

He catches us off guard and he manages in one shot before they stalk away.

"Idiots," Draco mutters, shaking his head. "No doubt there will be a nasty caption under an unflattering photo of us tomorrow if they can't find a more worthy story."

"Probably. Thanks for having the guts to tell her off, I hate reporters, but I dislike being…"

"Rude," he finishes for me. "Yeah well, people think I am anyways. Plus I've got a bone to pick. Bartender? Another round please!"

He gulps down the final dregs of his initial drink, extending his arm to receive the next one. He fishes out Galleons from his pocket, but our server puts his hand up.

"Drinks for the special guests are free, lad," he explains, and saunters off to serve the queue.

Draco raises his brows at me again. "Yep. Drinks are definitely the only redeeming quality."

Thoroughly stewed in his remaining fury, he chugs his firewhiskey, then plops it on the ledge. Then he arises from the stool.

"Hell, Granger," he looks at me, face burning with alcoholic heat, "I doubt these aresholes will leave us alone unless we do something. Haven't seen anyone messing with Weasel and George. Wanna be fools and dance?"

My mind is telling me 'heck, no', but he looks so adorable, and I promised myself and Ginny I'd have fun.

"If we must." I have a third of my cocktail left, but I leave it on the table, and grab his arm.

As we pass Mr. Gold hovering by Ginny and Harry, Draco bravely cuts off the bystanders and addresses them.

"Ginny, Hermione would like you to dance now, since you seem to have forgotten you wanted to. Sorry folks." Mr. Gold forms a slight scowl on his face having his 'celebrity couple' being taken away.

"Oh, yes! That sounds like fun! Hic, I'll come back in a bit and finish off the story about me and Harry's first date." The small crowd giggles, stupidly amused at her drunkenness, and Harry groans.

"Potter come on, don't wallow in misery for this entire ordeal. Dance with your woman." He reaches for Ginny's arm, who steadies herself with great difficulty, while Harry shakes his head fervently but catches her in his arms, replacing her long empty cocktail on the bar.

With vigour, Draco drags me into the masses, who part like a crashing wave as they see us come forward. I spot George and Verity, still up on the platform, and direct Draco's attention to them, laughing. Their dancing has become less tasteful, George roaming his hands over her, though not too obscenely.

"At least they're having a good time!"

A Weird Sisters song has just begun, I recognize the singer's deep throaty growl. I would never mention this to Draco, but I actually like them a lot, they remind me of David Bowie if he decided to have a rock band.

I'm unsure of the name of this tune however, but it's catchy. Slow yet rhythmic, the bass is booming to a careless rocksteady beat from the guitar mingled with marimba and piano tones.

Draco seems to find it agreeable in any case, and begins to sway his hips in time with the song along with swinging his arms out.

I haven't danced danced since Bill's wedding, so I mimic his movements, shuffling from foot to foot, letting the music take over me.

And I – just wanna go out with ya baby; get down with ya, baby.
Drink a little firewhiskey, til I start feelin' frisky,
And take you home for the night.

"These lyrics seem pretty uninspired," I yell to Draco who smirks in turn, grabbing my hands and moving them in time with his.

"Of course they are, it's music for the masses, but I can see in the proper setting why it's enticing actually. It's kinda fun."

"Oh, really?" I ask. "So all it takes is a shot of whiskey and you loosen up?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I just want to have a good time with you. Without all the crazy people, I feel…you know, happy."

I feel a bit nonplussed at this confession, and I don't have a great response to it, so I lean in to kiss him instead. He moves a bit closer to keep it going, holding the small of my back. The touch of fingers on my bare skin and the taste of his tongue momentarily take me to another world.

I finally forget who is around me, and continue to snog Draco with a careless vigour, slow and intense. A fair few songs go by until we pull away for air, but with a slow sexy one coming on, I pull him back for a repeat experience.

I'm enraptured in this bliss until yet another trivial interruption literally taps me on the shoulder.

"'Mione! I wassss lookin' for you." I turn around angrily to see Ron, majorly tanked at this point, a goofy smile on his face.

"Why? Why do you need me?" A flash goes off in front of us. Miss Ipswitch has returned to capture the 'drama'. For the love of – just why, why can't we be left alone?

"Lanka's been gone….for a while now," he says, scrunching his face as if it was a hard thing to think up.

"What?" Red alerts go through my head, and I look to Draco to calm myself, but his eyes are wide like mine.

"Yeah, Lavender came up and asked to danccce, and I said no, but she insisted. So Lanka s-said it was fine, went to the loos…but it's been more than 10 minutes, so…been waitin'," he blinks stupidly, rocking back on his heels.

"Oh, for – You're an idiot, Ron Weasley."

"What? Whadidido?"

"Trouble in paradise?" Imelda asks us, looking amused instead of concerned.

"I would appreciate it if you would leave us alone, thanks," I bite as I turn back to Ron, pulling him closer to me. "You should've gone with her and waited!," I hiss. "She could be anywhere now. What are you thinking? She was just as drunk as you were, augh! Wait here with Draco."

Draco holds a disgusted look on his face, but he swallows his pride.

"I think I'm gonna puke." Ron puts a hand to his mouth, and stumbles onto my date.

"Fuck, come along Weasel, let's go to the toilets before we make another scene." He pushes him upwards, then begrudgingly puts his arm round his shoulder, and we swim through the ocean towards the upstairs. Luckily the message to the press has gotten through because we manage to get to the washroom without too much hassle.

Plenty of couples have retreated up here to make out, I notice.
I wish I could partake.

Sigh.

Draco gives me a look as he pushes Ron into the boys room. All I can do is shrug apologetically as I go into the girls.

"Lanka? Are you in here?" I call.

I hear a retching sound, and then a voice. "Lanka? Is that your name, darling?"

I freeze.
That was no girl.

The sinks face me, and the toilets are around the corner. I edge my way towards the wall, and crane my head over to witness a man sprawled on the floor, trying to peek under the stall.

Regardless of if Lanka is in there or not, I have to do something. I gather my nerve while I trot over there and grab the man by the shoulders, flipping him on his back.

His pupils are completely dilated. He's not just drunk, it has to be something more.

"Heyyy, sweet thing. Wanna go to the stall over there? Your friend is being frigid."

"No, I certainly do not. You are not allowed in here, and I suggest you leave right this second!"

"Or what?" he whispers scarily, trying to grab my wrists on his biceps but failing. He doesn't seem to have control of his appendages.

"I'll get security. And the owner."

"Ha! Like they care, they're too caught up in Potter and friends." I realize he's very correct, though I don't let it show. Why don't they have anybody watching patrons up here?

"Well I so happen to be one of the 'friends', and my boyfriend is in the men's next door. Seems you're out of luck." His face falls slightly, bringing him into a daze of thought.

"Hermione?" the voice inside the stall croaks. It's definitely Lanka by the accent, thank god.

"Yes, I'm here, can you open up the lock, I need to get you out of the bathroom." I step over the mysterious man, kicking him gently with my foot so he rolls away from the door.

"Ow," he croaks, clutching his hand in pain.

When I hear the lock turn, I make a mad dash to get inside and trap us in there. Lanka is leaning back against the wall, vomit covering the toilet. She looks as if she's passed out standing up.

I'm not mad that she's really drunk, actually. I'm upset that she didn't use the buddy system because she might've been attacked or worse, but seeing as she isn't it's a good excuse for me to gather up the troops.

"Come on, Lanka, we're going to leave. We can go home, back to Verity's."

I need to get the hell out of here.

We've been here little over an hour, but it's been a nightmare. I don't know why I deluded myself into thinking people wouldn't notice if Draco and I were together, especially with Harry here. I guess I just don't see why it's such an interesting topic, nor do i want it to be.

I reach out for her arm, getting her to lean on me. I tentatively open the door; the man is wriggling gently, nursing his hand as if I cursed it.

I feel a bit bad if I did harm him, but he deserves it and I'm going to tell the staff what happened. It's absolutely unacceptable to have nobody keeping watch of the bathrooms, anybody could wander in and get hurt by themselves or by other people….

I drag Lanka over him to the exit, pushing back into the club, the music coming back full blast.

"Sank you, Hermione. He vas standing there for quite a long time, I can't remember when I even got into ze bathroom…" Lanka admits, rubbing her head with her palm. "I'm soooo sorry. I tend to go overboard when I go out."

"It's fine, we just need to wait for Draco and Ron if they're still up here," I say scanning the room with my limited mobility.

"Oh, good, you found her!" Ron's inebriated voice can be heard from beside me. I turn. "I couldn't find you."

Lanka smiles widely at him, perhaps delighted that he's delighted? I don't know how drunken hookups even happen, I mean Seamus and Padma was bizarre. Why not Ron and Lanka?

"Everything alright then?" Draco asks me, visibly annoyed that he has to babysit somebody who (when sober) hates his guts. Ron takes hold of Lanka and they begin to kiss; apparently vomit is no concern.

"No, actually. There's a man in there." Draco stiffens and leans in to grab my free fingers. "I'm alright, he was completely off his rocker though, it must be some kind of potion he took. He was trying to sneak a peek at Lanka, he was actually on the floor trying to look in," I confide.

Draco snarls.

"Let's go inform the manager and then get the fuck out of here. I will not tolerate being in a place that isn't completely safe, and I don't want you here either. Who knows what he would've done if you hadn't made it a few minutes early."

"Agreed."

"Weasley," he snaps his fingers to get his attention.
Ron pulls back; "M'yeah?"

"We're leaving. We're getting Potter, your sister and George and leaving. Hold on to Lanka and follow us for the love of Merlin," he commands, all joy ebbed from his tone.

"Alright…so boss-s-sy." Lanka giggles half-consciously, and he grabs her by the waist to get down the stairs.

I look back to check the toilet. "Draco, why don't I stay here and make sure nobody goes in? You can get somebody."

"Hell no."

"Just go, go quickly. I can't risk something happening to somebody else."
I give him a determined look, urging him to go. He sets his jaw displeased but spins round, wasting no time in pummeling his way through to Mr. Gold. He is still surrounded by desperate spectators hoping he'll introduce them to somebody famous.

Draco looks up to me before talking sternly to him, pulling the man aside for privacy. There is a lot of gesticulation and angry finger pointing. Mr. Gold becomes rigid by the end of the conversation and has a word with our burly bartender.

Draco beckons me down to meet him, gesturing to the front entrance.

I manage to direct one girl away from the loos before I make my way to the designated spot. I'm suddenly bombarded with questions and queries ('Where's your man?', 'Do you let him Slytherin to your bed sheets, har har?') but I bat them all away, uncaring for once if they'll dislike me tomorrow morning.

Draco has managed to get our entire party in one piece to the front, and is explaining no doubt what happened in the bathroom, as Verity is downright furious.

"Are you effing kidding me?!" she yells, stamping her foot. "Fuck Hermione, I owe you one. I can't believe I wasn't more…I'm such an idiot!"

"No you're not. You were lost in the moment. You were having fun. Ron and Lanka should have been more responsible, we should have been more aware. But both are too drunk to function right now, and we're angry; we can deal with them tomorrow, okay. Let's just leave."

Ginny has crossed arms, shaking her head silently while Harry is visibly angered.

"Going so soon?" Mr. Gold has the nerve to ask, popping up from the back to the foreground.

"Yes, and we will not be coming back," Draco snaps. "At least I won't." George nods in agreement.

"B-but why?" he asks flustered.

"Look mate, when you invited me I was flattered. Now i'm embarassed for having brought my friends. I didn't think by asking Harry to come that you'd be putting my friends and sister ondisplay."

"Display?"

"You're far too focused on creating a stir, and aout the people worth noting instead of about the safety of your guests. All night it's been clear that I've been bothered by the press, that Hermione and Potter have been. And you did nothing but encourage it, you let them in. In fact, if a man who is potentially a threat can get into the ladies room, you have a serious security problem, and until you solve it you should be condemned," Draco lists bravely. "If we can't even dance or have a drink alone in peace what the bloody fuck is the point of coming out at all? I won't make a scene as nothing happened tonight, but believe me if I hear of any harm happen because of this establishment you're done for. Now, piss off kindly and good night."

He swivels around, Mr. Gold a mixture of fright and disdain, and goes to grab his wand and coat waiting for him, the hosts overhearing the conversation.

I follow suit and gather my things, Verity and Harry help the more plastered of the group. By the time we get onto the street, I don't even feel the cold. I'm too numb with disappointment and regret.

"That was hellish," Draco mutters a bit loudly under his breath, bundling his scarf around his ears.

"I'm really sorry you guys didn't have fun…." Verity trails, obviously stricken with blame.

"It's not your fault. You aren't Potter and friends plus son of a jail-ridden Death Eater aristocrat," Draco replies. George gives a half-hearted chuckle, unsure if it was meant to be funny.

"I'm glad you got to experience it, but I think given all my 'famous' relationships, it's best I stay at home," I huff.

"Well there's no use in going home now. Please come back, let me make it up to you. We can just sit and chat, have more drinks or none. The night's still young."

I catch Draco's eyes, gauging his feelings. He shrugs and exhales.

"All right. But you better make me a damn good drink or I'll never come round again," he says a hint of a tease in there somewhere.

"Hey, that'd probably be a good thing if we want to go out uninterrupted," George tells him, nudging him in the side. "Photos every second, a panel of questions from the masses, ugly reporters and bar owners announcing the antics of the rich and famous…well, just famous in Ron's case."

Ron, glued to the hip with Lanka still and somehow standing, points up a finger: "I resent that, you know! I'll have you know I'm an international sex symbol."

Ginny and I giggle at this. Draco smirks and Verity tries very hard not to smile.

"International? More like municipal," George fires back. Draco snorts.

"Ah, the life of a celebrity is riddled with such drama," Ginny says mockingly like a reporter. "Everywhere the Golden Trio goes…trouble finds them! I can see the headline tomorrow: VIP Guests at Dragonblood Abuse Free Drink Rule and Leave Too Early."

"'Famous Harry Potter…can't even go into a club opening without making the front page,'" Harry imitates Draco's snarky tone.

Draco to my surprise bursts out in genuine laughter, causing everyone to follow suit, a catalyst of sorts.

"That's great, Potter. I think Granger's and my byline will be worse: One minute muggle born Miss Granger is studying, saving the world from evil, and the next? Snogging the slithering enemy, Draco Malfoy. Bad boy determined to use her for fame and status? Or has she really tamed the beast? An in-depth reflection from Imelda Dipshit on page 32."

George is practically in tears now clutching his stomach, Verity is seemingly over her rage, chuckling uncontrollably.

I watch everyone enjoying themselves and wonder why we even left the apartment. I suppose the alcohol helped, combined with a shared bad experience for everyone to get alone.

Draco grabs my hand, still making witty banter with my friends, actually grinning from the conversation. After that ordeal, the night can only elevate. Maybe I didn't get to dance and be alone with Draco, but who says we can't do that back at my place?