Boys Night, Girls Night

4.

Draco was lying in his bed. He had liked to believe that he always got his way. That people liked him enough to always want to give him his way.

Then he came to Hogwarts, and met Potter. That little toerag went out of his way to prove just the opposite. Then there was Weasley, and then Granger joined in, followed by everyone in Gryffindor...it was a disease. But until this moment, this very precise day, it hadn’t bothered him...too much.

This day had generously raised its hand and gave him the middle finger.

He tried everything short of veritaserum to get Hermione to talk, and he was sure she had an antidote in her pocket for just when his curiosity got the better of him. Then there was the somewhat more informative chat with Ginny, but it was stilted, and a lot of the time she stopped herself midsentence.
The information he did manage to get was about Hannah.
Yes, Ginny knew her for a long time.
No, they hadn’t crossed paths before- at least in that context.
Yes- she does have a way of being reached.
No- he couldn’t be told.
Yes- she would pass it on that he wanted to see her again.
No- she couldn’t promise she would respond.
Yes- she was just as frustrated as him with the lack of information she could give.
No- she couldn’t go and boil her head.
Yes- she would curse him if he tried.

He flipped himself over on his side and punched his pillow into a better shape. Women. How infuriating. Ginny mumbled something about loyalty and ‘chicks before dicks’ when he pressed her for more facts.

He grabbed his watch on the night table- 3 in the morning. Ok, so yesterday was the worst day ever.
He really shouldn’t be still awake. He had work in the morning...even if he made his own hours. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he shook his head. Maybe a glass of water would help. He took a couple long strides and pulled open his door and felt his jaw fall open at the sight in front of him.

Sure, he had had a glimpse of Hermione less than clothed. Sharing a flat and a bathroom tended to cause the situation of little privacy when you weren’t careful. They had walked in on each other almost constantly until they created a system of coming and going. She had the early shower and made breakfast, he showered later and cleaned the dishes. But that didn’t exactly help him right now.

She was in a ruffled thing – a babydoll he thought they called it. While it covered the basic anatomy, he somehow thought revealed more than if she was just naked.

Apparently, his shirt and boy short wasn’t the favorite he thought she liked to wear.

She was grabbing a glass of water, lost in her own thoughts so she didn’t see him staring at her. This allowed him to check his expression and reaction to her long enough to get him back to normal.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked in a low voice. He watched her slight jump as she turned and a blush as she realized what she was wearing. It then deepened as she saw what he was wearing, boxers. Remarkable- she had seen him in less and hadn’t shown a reaction before unless a snarky comment. What changed?

“I didn’t think you were awake, otherwise I would have thrown on a robe.” She hesitated.

“Please, I much prefer this view.” He answered walking forward- arms gesturing. She giggled a bit. She must be nervous, Granger never giggled.

“So what has you up this early?” She asked, her eyes looking back out the window.

“I’m doing the whole ‘thinking about everything without realizing what time it is’ scenario.” He answered truthfully. She nodded and offered him the rest of her water. He took the glass, and downed it, his eyes never leaving her. There was a slight sheen on her skin, overheated he would call it. What the hell?


Well, well, and well again. The saying of you summon the devil by thinking about him had never seemed as true as this moment. Sleep had eluded her. Her mind just replayed the events from that night like they were seared on the back of her eyelids. She was riled up just thinking about it. She could feel his phantom body on hers, and who the hell could sleep with those memories? The flat was completely silent, so she thought she would just nip into the kitchen for a quick drink.

She usually didn’t prance around in her lingerie. When she was sure Draco was around, she wore his shirt. She wore it when he wasn’t around too, she liked the smell. He still didn’t realize she ‘borrowed’ his cologne after she washed it.

But majority of the time, she liked her lingerie. It made her feel sexy, feminine. The only girl in the Golden Trio; dressing like this was a wake-up call for Ron. She chuckled at the memory of his face when she walked out one night dressed like this.

“Do I get to hear the joke?” Draco asked leaning past her to refill the glass.

“Not a joke really; just remembering Ron’s face when he saw me in a similar outfit. You’re holding up well in comparison.”

Draco had an inward frown. Weasel saw this before him? “Did his eyes pop out? It could be considered an improvement.”

She laughed. “Something like that.”

“So what has you up in the middle of the night?”

“It’s technically morning.” She pointed out.

“And you’re technically avoiding the question.”

She pushed herself up and sat on the counter. She hated when he saw through her. She couldn’t hide things from him, he read her like a book. Just like Harry. “More or less dreams.” Well, maybe she could hide one thing.

“More or less dreams.” He repeated and paused. “Bad ones? Like right after the war?” He knew how to handle those dreams. He had them too. They had spent months having them at the same time.

“They could be considered bad in another perspective.” She mumbled. Truly, sleeping with your roommate in a disguise was a bad idea. “But, no. I guess they would be considered good dreams.”

He paused, confused. Who wouldn’t want to go to bed if they were having good dreams?
Then he put two and two together and came up with twenty: The nightie, plus the sheen on her skin, plus the need for a glass of water. “Ms. Golden Gryffindor, these wouldn’t happen to be sex dreams would they?”

Hermione felt her blush answer for her and shrugged her shoulders. At least he didn’t know they were about him.

Draco, on the other hand was giddy. He threw he head back and barked out a laugh. Rinsing the glass out, he moved closer to her side to put the glass back. Harry was right, she was something entirely different than what he had pegged. Unconsciously, his voice dropped to a husky tenor and he dipped his head next to her ear. “And just who are these dreams about might I ask?”

Her head snapped up. That voice meant trouble, even during the middle of the day in a public area. And they weren’t exactly in the middle of Diagon Alley.
She did what any well brought up girl who had some sense would do in the same situation. She poked him hard in the chest and was pleased when he took a defensive step back.
“No, you may not ask. And if you must know, it was about my other night.” Hah, which was you.
This is getting complicated. Maybe I need another night out. To get this out of my system. Have another memory to put in place over Draco’s. She needed to forget what had happened between them since it was not going to happen again. That’s what is needed. To move foward.

Draco watched her face as he rubbed the spot where she had poked. She’s hiding something more then the identity of the wizard she just shagged. And she’s plotting. Hmm. Throw out some bait.

“Just as well. I have no qualms telling you things. Take for instance Hannah. I’m determined to find her.” He watched as all color left from her face. So it whatever is plaguing her happened on that night. Continuing to watch her, she seemed to have decided on something from the firm set of her mouth.

Hermione just had an epiphany of sorts. Krum was all about screwing around and, if she was honest with herself, the closest person to Draco in the skills department. Possibly better since she had been inebriated at the time and in no condition to compare. A little comparison and relief was needed. No, just relief, Hermione thought furiously. She was moving forward, leaving that night behind.
Even better, she had a late appointment with Krum on Tuesday. She could make it till then. Some dreamless sleep and she could make it.
Feeling like her world had righted itself; she let out a little sigh and relaxed. “I’m going to try and go back to sleep.”

“Meaning you’re taking a sleeping draft.” He mumbled. He didn’t like being left out of the silent conversation going on in her head. He could use legilimency but was immediately repulsed by it.
That was wrong; he needed to learn to deal with not getting his way after all.

She smiled a slight smile. “You know me so well. Do you want some too?”

He heaved a sigh. “Might as well. Now that I have your sleeping issues on my mind there is no way in hell I’m passing out without help.”

She nodded and motioned for him to follow. Once in her room she walked toward the chest at the bottom of her bed. It wasn’t much different than Moody’s trunk. It had seven different locks, one for each magical compartment inside. But it had two halves, and so a smaller lock for the extra seven smaller compartments.
Opening the third lock, then the second on top, she reached into a small apothecary. Draco was mildly interested. Just how much did she hide in this trunk?
He accepted the draft and closed the door behind him with murmured thanks. He could think about it tomorrow, well, later.

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