Prologue


"Shit!"

The expletive coming from a familiar voice jolted Hermione awake. She opened her eyes a bit but almost immediately closed them again when she felt the incessant pounding of her head that felt like her skull was being split pen by a claw hammer.

"Fuck!"

Hermione groaned, the sound of the male voice adding to the hell happening inside her head. She opened her eyes again, and the small amount of light streaming through the tiny spaces between the heavy curtains helped her see the figure of the man who was now pacing the length of the floor a few feet away from where she lay. She recognized him instantly despite the party in her head.

"Water. I need water." She almost didn't know her own voice. It was hoarse.

He stopped dead on his tracks and looked at her from across the room; his eyes were scanning hers from that distance as if looking for an answer to something from her like he usually did when they were at work.

Hermione tried to get up but as quick as lightning, he had her pushed back down to the bed with a firm, "Don't."

That was when it hit her. His hands touched bare skin. Her headache nearly forgotten, she fumbled for the blanket that was, fortunately, already wrapped around her to her chest. She held the blanket up to head while doing a nervous inventory of her clothing underneath – which she was horrified to discover was none at all.

She looked up. Once again, their eyes met. At that distance, she clearly saw what was in his eyes now. It reflected what was in hers. Dread. Panic. Horror. Regret.

Shit and fuck, indeed.

Merlin strike her dead. Now. It seems that last night, Hermione Granger – the brain of the Golden Trio and prominent corporate lawyer – had drunkenly shagged her enemy-turned-best-friend-turned-boss, Draco Malfoy.