Chapter 8

"Draco, get up. C'mon, let me see your face." Draco groaned, rolling over, away from Hermione and the day's duties ahead. "Draco, we've overslept. The match is in two hours and we have last minute planning to do." He groaned again, rolling back towards her and opening one eye. She was running around his room in nothing but a t shirt and knickers, something he definitely had not realized the night before. The sight of her sent his blood rushing south, making him grip the sheets to try and control himself. Her face was flushed, the muscles in her long legs taut as she got on tip toe to wrench the curtains open, allowing bright sunlight to seep into the room. He closed his eyes against the brightness, and when he opened them again, Hermione was stretching, her long, dark curls falling down her back artistically. What made it so beautiful was knowing how natural she was, having just woken up in his arms. Her milky skin still had a light golden tint from the embrace of the summer sun, making her look almost holy. She turned back round, staring at him as he gripped his head in pain.

"C'mon Malfoy, it can't be that bad. Unless you want to play this match with a split lip and swollen jaw, you best let me heal it."

Draco grudgingly took his hands away from his head and sat up, running a hand through his hair. Hermione placed a hand gently on his chest, causing that electric heat to run through him again. With her other hand, she gripped her wand, pointing at his chin and murmuring a healing spell. "Curatio."

Draco closed his eyes, letting her spell heal his bruised skin. Once it was over, he scrunched up his face, squinting at her through one eye.

"Is it over?" She sighed. "Yes, now get up. I'll make you some tea."

She padded back to her room, and he heard her fill the kettle. He was surprised how willing she was to take care of him, and how he would do the same for her. Shaking his head, he got up, willing his uncomfortable partner to settle down before she came back in and noticed. She entered his bedroom a short while later, hair braided back from her face. She handed him a warm mug of tea, and he accepted it with a strange look.

"Granger?" She turned back around from the doorway. "What?"

He paused, giving her a crooked smile. "How is it you know exactly how I take my tea?"

Hermione wished the floor would swallow her up whole.

Thoughts racing, chest pounding, and cheeks flushing, she stuttered, "I, I just guessed is all."

"Granger," he laughed, barely able to contain himself. "You just happened to guess exactly how I take my tea?"

She nodded, her face on fire.

"Completely black with four spoonfuls of honey?"

"A lot of people do that, Malfoy."

He laughed loudly. "No, no no, Granger. A lot of people most certainly do not. In fact, I know of no one else that takes their tea like I do."

Her mouth had gone dry, as Malfoy wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously at her over the lip of his mug. He had caught her, knowing what an obsessive fool she must be for knowing that. She decided the only way to relieve herself of the situation would be to embarrass him.

"You might want to take care of that, by the way," she said, pointing to his clearly erect member, where he thought he had hidden it under the sheets. He groaned, setting his mug down and getting off the bed. He began to playfully walk towards her, causing her to stumble in to the wall. "D'you think you could do it for me?"

She tried not to smile, pushing him back into his side of the door and closing it in his face. "Aww c'mon then!" he yelled.

"Sort it out yourself!" she playfully called back.

Draco walked out onto the Quidditch Pitch, to the cheers of fellow Slytherins and Hufflepuffs alike. The first match of the year was against Ravenclaw, an easy match for Slytherin. There were many Gryffindor students in attendance, rooting for Ravenclaw of course. Draco knew Hermione would not be in attendance, having to see to last minute Ball preparations. Slytherin thoroughly pummeled Ravenclaw, Draco catching the snitch awfully early in the game. It was a complete blowout. There was a pre-ball party in the Slytherin common rooms, which Draco attended and got a light buzz. Being the reason for Slytherin's win, girls hung off him, vying for his attention. Yet this time was different. This time he didn't let them.

Hermione was stressed, to put it lightly. The Weird Sisters had missed their portkey, making them most probably late for the ball. Most of the decorations had yet to be put up by the students on the Ball committee, as they had decided to attend the match instead. Hermione was know pacing the Great Hall, her once-tight braid hanging loose and wild across her shoulder. Her jeans and t-shirt were wrinkled, covered in dirt. Her face was smeared with grime from cleaning, finding much more satisfaction doing it the muggle way. She was just running through the checklist one last time when a crash from the entrance of the hall distracted her.

There was Draco, sweaty and dirty from the Quidditch match. His face was flushed, a devilish gleam in his eye. Hermione could tell immediately that Draco had been drinking.

"Ello, darlin," he called from the doorway.

Hermione went bright red, running to the entryway before anyone else noticed him. Thankfully, most of the other students were near the back, setting up the stage for the band. "What-are-you-doing!?" she whisper-yelled.

"I came to help," he said, almost apologetically. He looked sheepish, like a little boy caught doing something naughty. "Well, maybe you should've come to help before getting buzzed! Now go sober up. And don't come back till you do!" Hermione scolded him. Draco, frowned and went back to his room.

Hours later, a frayed Hermione returned to her room in a frenzy. She took a quick, scalding shower, casting moisturizing and drying spells over her hair and body. She put on her earrings and elegant, simple diamond pendant necklace. She slipped on heels and her emerald green gown, letting her hair flow in vintage curls down her back. She strapped on her black masquerade mask, her eyes shrouded in dark makeup. Ginny normally helped her, but Hermione was just too busy planning the ball for any excess preparation. She glanced in a mirror as she fixed her hair. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin dewey. Her eyes had messy, sexy makeup enchanted on them, dark lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbones. For one of the first times in her life, Hermione felt pretty.

She strode towards Draco's connecting door, marching into his bedroom. She fully expected him to be passed out in a drunken stupor, and was therefore pleasantly surprised when his bedroom door swung open, out striding an immaculate looking Draco Malfoy. He was dressed in typical, high end wizard's robes, with a black bow tie. His overgrown, blonde hair was pushed back in an accidentally sexy kind of way. His eyes sparkling, he gave Hermione a once over. She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

Draco stared unabashedly at Hermione. He had obviously always been attracted to her in her most natural way, but there was something about her dolled up that terrified and turned him on, all at the same time. He realized he had been staring at her open-mouthed for at least thirty seconds. He cleared his throat. "You, uh; you look great." Understatement of the year, he thought. She looked absolutely ravishing and intimidating. Hermione huskily murmured back, "as do you." She shook her head, curls bouncing around her shoulders. "Right, well, we should be going to greet the students."

"Right. May I?" He offered her his arm, and she gladly took it as they walked out the door, into a tumultuous night awaiting them.