Malfoy sat glaring at Hermione over the brim of his cup.

"Are you really going to act like a five year old all night?" Hermione cuddled deeper into her blankets as she spoke. She'd nicely cocooned herself on the sofa in front of the fire. Malfoy had already claimed the love seat that was closer to the heat. "I made that password forever ago, and even Zabini thought it was funny!" She immediately realised bringing up Blaise wouldn't help her cause. Clearly Malfoy didn't love the idea of his friend taking her side.

"I think I need something stronger than tea to deal with you, Granger." He abruptly got up and went to the cupboards. He pulled out a bottle of red wine and proceeded to pour himself a rather large glass full. Where he'd gotten the wine or the glasses from she wasn't sure. "Would you care to join me Hermione? You look like you could use some."

"What the hell, why not? You're right I could use some." She'd had an agonizingly long forty-eight hours and wine sounded perfect right now, if she was being honest.

"Care to talk about it?" He asked while pouring her an equally full glass. Draco Malfoy being kind and considerate? Just another reason she could use a drink.

"Maybe in a drink or two. I'm too sober right now, and quite frankly you're the last person I want to talk to about this." Hermione was shocking herself with her honesty, but she really didn't have the energy to put up fronts anymore. "Unfortunately, you may be my only option." She mumbled the last bit to herself. Unfortunately Malfoy just happened to be handing her the wine.

"Now you've intrigued me, please go on." He sounded like a kid about to find out what his Christmas presents were.

"I told you," Hermione raised her glass in a mock toast, "in a few more drinks." And with that she tipped her head back and nearly downed it. Thankfully, she did leave some. She didn't want to appear too desperate. She still had some dignity.

"Well, well...Who would've thought the almighty Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, could actually hold her liquor?" Malfoy was enjoying himself quite a bit. "Anyway, we probably should discuss the briefing." He said, drawing attention away from whatever was bothering her so much. If he knew anything about her it was that she valued work above almost anything else, especially personal matters.

"Right, right." She said, gathering herself into a more upright position. "Minerva mentioned that we'd be in charge of the seventh years, and something about games?"

"Yup. You're quite lucky you got paired with me, Granger. Aside, from obvious reasons," Hermione snorted, "Mcgonagall has a soft spot for me and gives me the best year. Trust me, you do not want to be babysitting the first years." Hermione opened her mouth to ask why and anticipating her question Malfoy said, "Think of one-hundred first year me's. Don't worry, you'll see during games." Immediately Hermione got it. It sent a shiver down her spine just thinking about the horror.

"So," Malfoy continued on, "we basically meet with our group in the morning to give them their schedules for the day, then go to wherever the games station is and spend the day rotating years. So we might have first years, first and continue until we've gone through every year. Then we have another meeting with our year to recap the day. Finally there's a counselor meeting while they're at dinner. There's a couple more things but you'll get the jist of it tomorrow, learn by doing, you know?"

Hermione actually did. She nodded thoughtfully as she processed. It made enough sense to her. "What's tomorrow's game?" She was only worried about one game. Anything else she could handle. Just not…

"Quidditch!" Malfoy said with clear excitement. "We start practices tomorrow because there's a huge tournament at the end of the summer. We rotate which group practices instead of regular activities. And today, Saturdays, are free days, so we'll go tomorrow then next Monday."

Hermione couldn't think of a time in her life that everything had been conspiring against her so much. She downed the rest of her wine and silently went to refill her glass. She was going to need more wine if she wanted to get through this. After she'd refilled her glass and cozied up under her blankets again, she looked at Malfoy. "Do you know what happened the last time I rode a broom, Malfoy?"

He noticed the pink tint her cheeks had already taken on. He wondered if she knew how much of a light-weight she was. "No, Hermione. Please enlighten me." He leaned forward in his chair, anticipating her answer.

"I fell off. Well, first I flew straight up, then I fell off. I probably would have died if…." Hermione got a lost look in her eyes as she trailed off. Malfoy was just about to ask if she was alright when she burst into tears. "Oh, bloody hell! I promised myself I was done with this! Bloody tears, traitors." She was mumbling incoherently to herself, and Malfoy wasn't quite sure how to respond. Of course, he'd seen women cry before. Pansy whenever he rejected her, for example. But that wasn't anything like this. This...looked like it hurt.

He couldn't think of anything else to do except move closer. He abandoned his spot on the loveseat in favor of the one next to her on the sofa. He awkwardly patted her back.

"Oh, Draco," He was slightly taken aback by the use of his first name, "you probably think I'm a fool. But I have a good reason to cry! I swear. I don't just...cry willy nilly." The wine had clearly taken its effect on her. "See, Ron, the bastard, came home drunk again. Maybe high too, he does that too sometimes. But this time was bad. He wanted...he wanted.." Her crying increased and Draco could only assume what she meant. As she continued on he hated the Weasel more and more each second. It would be a miracle if she finished and he didn't go off to kill the idiot.

"It's okay Hermione, I understand." Draco said, making more soothing circles on her back.

Sniffling, she calmed down a little bit. It was actually easy to talk to him. "Well, anyway he had come home at about seven and by the time I got him..off of me...it was time for work. So I just left. I didn't think he'd follow me. But he did. Wanted to have it out in front of the whole office. Started screaming at me about so many things. The worst was about how bad in bed I apparently am. Which I'm not, for the record," Although whose record and why it mattered she wasn't quite sure. "As a result, my boss fired me. All because of him! I didn't do anything!" All of a sudden she was up and pacing the floor. "I didn't do a damn thing and he..he..he's horrible! An awfully, spoiled, wanker. Worse than you used to be, Draco!"

"Gee thanks, Hermione." He was trying not to be amused, as she was having a proper meltdown, but she looked so darn cute. Her hair was bemused and ruffled from the blankets and her agitated state. Her face was slightly red now, and she kept wobbling around. Realizing just how much she was wobbling he realised walking might not be the best idea for her right now. "Ok, come on Granger. Down girl." He said pulling her back to the couch.

Huffing was the only sign of protest Draco received. "You now, you're really not as bad as you used to be Draco." Hermione said, taking a completely different turn. "You're nice and not..evil. It's weird." Draco couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. Never would he have imagined the Golden Gryffindor sitting tipsy next to him, calling him nice no less, and yet here they were.

"Alright, Hermione, I think you need some sleep." He scooped her up and started carrying her to her room. As much as he was enjoying himself, he did need a fellow counselor tomorrow. They'd have a big day ahead of them and having a hangover wasn't going to help Hermione's situation.

The last thing Hermione saw before fading off was a male figure standing at her door, looking back at her fondly. What a nice dream she thought as she fell asleep...